The First Time - Epilogue
by maya295
Summary: Right after their one-night stand in Michigan, how the lives of House and Cuddy will unravel over the years, until one day, they will finally be ready to get together for the first time. A second time… (Reading "The First Time" before reading this epilogue is strongly recommended)
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone, _

_So this is the epilogue for my story, called "The First Time."_

_I've decided to post it separately because when I started writing it, it became quickly obvious that it was going to be way much longer than I initially thought it would be, even though the path I'm taking with it was something I had in mind all along. But then I realized it IS a damned long, winding road! :P_

_Besides, I think this story, even if it's meant to be an epilogue of sort, still works as a standalone fiction – at least, in my mind it does. And, tbqh, when I hit 22,000 words (and counting…) I also thought it would probably be more reasonable to cut it into separate chapters._

_That being said, if some of you haven't read 'The First Time' yet, I am strongly encouraging you to give it a look, before you start reading this one. First, because this epilogue contains several references to what is only mentioned there, and second, well, if anything, because if you want to read about _The First Time_, as in how I imagined House and Cuddy did it the first time… you will only find it there, too!_

_To write this epilogue, I've done a ridiculous amount of readings to collect details of House's main characters' biographies, and I've tried my best to strictly respect them (timeline and facts) as they are known. I hope it will be satisfying for those of you who – like me – are quite obsessed with accuracy._

_Obviously though, I also had to fill in the blanks, A LOT, to create a fictional past that we never heard of, because many details were never mentioned. I hope that the way I've tried to weave those with otherwise "real" biographical references will work well for you, too. _

_So there you go. _

_I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed imagining it…_

* * *

><p><strong>** THE FIRST TIME - EPILOGUE **<strong>  
><strong>- part 1 -<strong>

**[September, 26 1987]**

It's almost noon when Cuddy wakes up the next morning after having spent the night with House.

She's slept naked in her bed, something she usually doesn't do, and when she opens her eyes, a smile flickers on the corner of her lips as she feels the sheets caress her bare skin. She is sore, but it's not an unpleasant feeling. She stretches like a lazy cat and looks around her with sleepy eyes.

On her nightstand, she notices House's silver flask that he apparently forgot when he left at dawn a few hours before. She wonders if he forgot it deliberately, and chooses to believe that he did, surely to have a reason to see her again. She smiles, thinking that he really didn't need a pretext for that and gets up.

Next to the flask on her nightstand, there's also an unused condom, not to mention the ones in her dustbin, with the lollipop that House never finished because she threw it away before they started kissing, and fucking… or making love…

On her mahogany desk, the jar of lollipops is here, taunting her. She thinks about him when he was licking one, then she thinks about his lips. And then, of course, she thinks about his lips on her lips. And his lips there, on her sex, driving her crazy, carrying her to a place where there is no control, no barrier, and no limit.

It quickly becomes obvious that she wants to see him again. It's only Saturday, and even if she will see him on Monday in Endocrinology class, she already feels the need to spend more time with him before that. They could talk – she loves talking with him, and he's got such a unique way of deciphering her, as if he could read her mind. They could go out, ride his bike, or have coffee, grab a bite somewhere. But they could also do none of these things and just stay inside, in her room; have sex all afternoon, and all night. Have sex with House. Yes, she definitely would love to do that. She wants to feel what she felt with him again, and more. She feels there's more to explore, and for a reason she can't explain, her mind tells her that he would know how to take her there.

But she doesn't know where he lives. She doesn't have his phone number. She doesn't even know where to look for him.

So she goes to that little café where they went together after class a few days ago to have breakfast; something she never does but suddenly feels the need to. She sits by the window and absentmindedly sips her latte, secretly hoping that the doorbell will chime and that maybe, at some point, he will enter the place, and join her… But he doesn't come.

Saturday night, Rebecca convinces her to go to another party. On her way there, she finds herself searching for his bike, trying to spot it, parked somewhere in front of a building. She drives past several ones and her heart skips a beat each time, but then sinks when she realizes it's not his. He's not at the party. It's a fun one, though, but she doesn't enjoy being there. She feels alone, and a bit out of place.

House is nowhere to be seen. She doesn't know where to look to find him so she realizes she will have to wait. And it already feels like torture.

The week-end passes, excruciatingly slowly. On Monday morning, when Cuddy arrives in Endocrinology class a little before nine, she's bubbling with a mix of excitement and apprehension: What is he going to say to her? What happens next? Do they talk about it, or just sit side by side and pretend like nothing happened? What if House pretended like nothing happened?...

Professor Fillmore arrives right on time. Class starts at nine o'clock sharp. Almost all the students are here, ready to get to work.

Except one.

He's late, like he usually is, Cuddy tells herself. But ten minutes in, and House isn't there. She tries not to read too much into it. After almost twenty minutes, he still hasn't showed up. At nine-thirty, she starts fidgeting in her seat uncomfortably as she shoots glances at the door every two minutes. But he _really_ isn't coming. Fillmore dismisses class, and there's no sign of House.

He just didn't come.

She's perplexed, confused, and a little angry: _She_ has no way of contacting him, but _he _knows where her room is. He could have told her he wasn't coming. And if he wasn't, he could have waited for her in the hallway after class to explain. He could have… He could have what?

God, she's stupid! So they had sex, and now what? Is she really that naïve that she thought it necessarily meant it would go somewhere? Of course not! She should know better. She had sex before, with guys she didn't really dream of having a relationship with. Sex is fun. No one ever said it was going to be anything other than what it was: A fun experience. Great sex - _awesome_ sex, if she's being honest - but with no strings attached. She's a big girl, right? She doesn't need a relationship, anyway. She's here to study. There are other priorities she should focus on. There were no expectations.

No expectations.

Still, it no longer feels that much interesting to attend Endocrinology classes after all. So she decides she should quit auditing them. What's the point, anyway? It's just extra work and less sleep for her in the mornings.

She drives to the administrative building to cancel her registration. When she arrives there, she almost crashes into a tree when she sees it: His bike, parked right in front of the steps of the building. She stays seated behind her steering wheel for a while, just staring at it, breathless, and then _he_ appears at the door. Leather jacket, worn-out jeans, and black boots. He visibly hasn't shaved during the week-end and that five o'clock shadow on his face gives him a weirdly sexy look. He looks scruffier, definitely, but mostly agitated.

She sits paralyzed in her car, looking at him from a distance. She wants to get out and run to him, but she's unable to move. It would have been pointless anyway because everything happens so fast. It felt like hours to her, but in truth, it probably only took a few seconds before he hopped on his bike and rode off; just a few seconds before he disappeared completely.

She stays there, immobile, for a little longer, trying to process what she just saw, trying to understand why House would be there but not in Endocrinology class, until she snaps out of her daze and gets really angry at herself for being such a vulnerable little idiot, but most of all an idiot that has let herself be affected by all of that: There is nothing between House and her. There probably never was, anyway, except for that stupid, misleading mind-blowing sex that gave her the illusion there could have been something else when, obviously, there wasn't.

In the silence of her car, she solemnly swears she will not allow herself to get emotionally caught in that kind of stupid delusion with him again. He wants to play it cool? She can play it cool, too! After all, they're both adults. Life goes on. No one died. It's alright.

Yes, perfectly alright.

One direct consequence of that brutal, but beneficial wake-up call: She's not going to cancel her registration in Endocrinology. She's going to continue to audit that class. The thing is, she likes Endocrinology. And chances are, when the time comes to choose a specialty, she may even very well decide that Endocrinology is her call. That's what she tells herself, out of the blue, as she sits in her car on a Monday morning, a few minutes after she watched House rode off on his bike.

She's too proud and stubborn to admit the hidden reasons of that sudden, somewhat premature choice because that would mean admitting _he_ has an influence on her, and right now, this is the last thing she's ready to concede.

# # # # #

To say it's been a slap in the face to hear Reitman announce he's been expelled from Johns Hopkins is an understatement.

Since Saturday morning, House is in a blur. Once the initial shock of the news has passed, the implications of the irremediable sanction have started to slowly dawn on him: It means repeating his fourth year, in other words, losing an entire year doing something he's already good at all over again, and that infuriates him. It means finding a new residency program, obviously not at the Mayo Clinic since being expelled goes with losing the perfect internship as well. It means regularizing his administrative status at UMich, which means attending the right classes, relevant for the specialties he's chosen, and stop sitting like a tourist in random classes just for the sake of annoying the professors. It means quit wasting time in that book store and focusing on his medical priorities instead. It means acknowledging what those priorities are… which, of course, means acknowledging that right now, his priorities don't include being involved with a girl, even though it could be _the_ girl...

In short, it means life is unfair, as usual. Not that he isn't familiar with the feeling, right?

Some fourth-year guy he's used to hanging out with calls him Saturday morning soon after Reitman to suggest a party that night, and that's when House realizes he really needs to get out of here, fast. He grumbles a few lame excuses, maybe even tells about the call he's just received, or rants about life being crap, and people being morons and he heads out. Where? He has no idea at first. All he knows is that he's so angry, he might start punching things, or people, to blow off steam, and that kind of feelings doesn't bode well; not when, on top of it, it reminds him of his father and he hates himself even more for thinking, just for one second, that the two of them are alike.

He hops on his bike and rides aimlessly for the most part of the day, largely exceeding the speed limits, taking inconsiderate risks on the road, and cursing out loud behind the visor to shut the little voice in his head, as it keeps whispering what a loser he is, and how easy it would be if he just lost the control of his bike in a turn…

In the evening, he ends up in a bar in a town where he's never been before. The place is full of loutish patrons, and common women who wear too much make-up. They curse loudly, blaming society, big corporate companies, and the world in general, and House gets drunk with them, joining their rant and insulting Weber, Reitman, and the morons at The Mayo clinic, all of them assholes and cowards and cheaters.

Nobody knows who they are but everyone still yells "yeah!" in unison, as they raise their glasses and drink some more, succumbing to the delusion that being together is not, in fact, just another way to drown their misery alone.

Monday morning, House is back in Ann Arbor with a pounding headache. He looks like hell, as he has neither showered nor shaved in two days. He goes straight to the administrative building to regularize his situation. As the girl in charge of the fourth-years' office explains to him everything he needs to do, House thinks about Cuddy, who's sitting in Endocrinology class, and how much he'd rather be _with her_ now, instead of listening to someone telling him he has to transfer his university file from Johns Hopkins before UMich can consider registering him as a permanent student and not one on provisional basis anymore.

He could ask for the transfer to be made by mail, but it would take days, if not weeks, and when the girl shrugs empathically, as if she didn't really care about the consequences of that extra delay on House's future, he decides to go there and get his file back himself.

But before, as irrational as it seems in that moment, he feels the sudden urge to go see her, if anything to explain to her what happened. When he leaves the building, he gets on his bike and rides as fast as he can to their Endocrinology class. It's over, of course, and Cuddy is not there. He tries that little café next, where they both went the week before, hoping she might be there. She's not.

So he goes to her room, without much hope, but he just needs to try. He knocks on her door once, twice, and waits in silence for a sign that never comes. Of course she's not here. She's in class. He realizes he doesn't even know which one and he suddenly feels helpless. Hastily, he fishes a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbles his phone number on it, with the words "call me" written underneath. He stares at it for a long while, pondering whether or not to slip the note under her door, and finally decides against it.

There's no point, right? His priorities have changed. And what would a girl like Cuddy do with a loser like him?

He puts the piece of paper back in his pocket and runs his fingertips on the Mezuzah by her door. He needs to go to Johns Hopkins, which is an 8-hour drive. And as much as he knows that the hours he's spent with Lisa Cuddy will be etched on his memory forever, he doesn't have time to be sentimental any longer…

# # # # #

At some point during the week, Cuddy hears about the rumor: Gregory House has been expelled from Johns Hopkins and he has to repeat his fourth year of med-school. She tries to downplay her initial shock upon hearing the news. Most of all, she tries to convince herself that she doesn't care, and that he had it coming.

Part of her is still hurt by the fact that he didn't even come to her to tell her about that change of situation. She can understand that the night they spent together was a one-time thing. She can even accept that it was, but she thought they were friends. Or, at least, that the confessions they'd shared together meant something. She told him about her mother, and he sympathized with her. He told her about his need to find the truth and have all the answers and she understood the feeling…

Thursday morning, House doesn't attend Endocrinology either, but this time Cuddy feels less bitter about it. There's this guy in class, John, who sits next to her and blatantly comes on to her the whole time, and she lets him. She remembers having seen him sat next to House the first day. She doesn't know why it matters to her but it does. It's like getting close to him again, maybe even secretly hoping that he'll hear about it somehow. It's completely irrational and stupid, but she's too proud to admit it.

When Fillmore dismisses class, John invites her for a coffee and she accepts. They head out side by side and then, as they step in the hallway, she bumps into _him_. He's standing there, leaned against the wall, visibly waiting for class to end, and the shock of seeing him, so close, literally takes her breath away. She surely does a lousy job at trying to get a hold of herself, but she manages to do it anyway.

House, on the other hand, seems quite shaken to run into her like that. At least, that's what she wants to read in his wide eyes that stare intensely at her for a second before looking away.

"Hey," he says with a low, gravelly voice.

His head is bowed and his eyes don't leave the floor, as he conspicuously avoids looking at her.

She gulps, and says nothing. She doesn't know what to say. Her heart, pounding almost achingly in her chest, won't let her speak anyway. House looks up and their eyes meet again, and when they do, Cuddy sucks in a sharp breath, as if she'd been punched in the stomach.

"I came to… Well, I needed to see—" he stutters, pointing in the direction of Fillmore's desk, who's still collecting his books and papers to put them inside his briefcase.

"Mr. House!" the professor exclaims, as if on cue, when he spots House standing by the door. "I was waiting for you."

House shoots one glance at John, who's been standing by Cuddy's side in silence the whole time, then pauses to really look at her, for what feels like an eternity. She holds his gaze with equal intent, and the intensity of that brief exchange literally burns her eyes so she rapidly flutters her eyelids, at the same time becoming aware that it makes her look like she's about to cry and she hates the idea that it's what he could think too so, out of the blue, taking the poor, clueless guy completely off guard, she grabs John's hand and squares her shoulders, looking House in the eyes one last time.

"Good luck," she says with as much poise as she can muster.

House's eyes instantly dart to her hand, acknowledging her gesture, and he nods imperceptibly before turning on his heel to enter the room without saying a word.

The door closes behind him and suddenly Cuddy is left standing on trembling legs, alone in the hallway. John is standing next to her, too, but his presence doesn't matter at all. She feels bereft all the same, and terribly empty.

"What a weirdo," John says, the sound of his voice making her slightly jump in surprise.

He squeezes the hand she's put in his a little and starts walking away, trying to set them into motion but Cuddy promptly yanks it out of his grip to free herself.

"I'm sorry. I forgot I had class right now. I can't go grab a coffee. I—Well, sorry. Another time maybe," she reels off, leaving John rooted to his spot, completely dumbfounded, as she practically runs away from him before he has time to reply anything.

Yes, no matter what lie she's told herself to try and convince herself that she didn't care, it clearly doesn't work…

# # # # #

It's not easy to forget a girl like Cuddy, and stop thinking about her, but barely seeing her still helps fostering the illusion that he can a little.

For that, House has deliberately chosen to front load his schedule, which means he's decided to do his two sub-internships during the first period of the year. Consequently, quitting Endocrinology and pretty much every class that was not relevant to the specialties he wants to acquire - infectious disease and pathology - was inevitable.

In October, he starts his first four-week clerkship in Anatomic and Clinical Pathology, spending most of his time doing laboratory work, or rotating through surgical pathology, hematology and blood bank. He also spends a substantial amount of his time performing autopsies, developing a growing interest for hidden causes, or underlying illnesses not necessarily diagnosed prior to death.

One of the advantages of that clerkship is that he's free from on-call responsibilities and every night, after having worked in the laboratory all day, instead of going to parties or socializing with friends like he used to, he stays locked in his studio and studies relentlessly, learning more from his countless readings in a few months than he ever learns during the required lectures he must attend to complete his internships.

Sometimes though, he happens to spot a brunette girl, with long curly hair in the distance (in the cafeteria, in the Library, or in random places) and each time, it's not until she turns around or walks past him and he realizes that it's not Lisa Cuddy that his betraying, racing heartbeats return to normal…

# # # # #

Forgetting a man like House is harder than Cuddy thought it would be.

She still thinks about him a lot - studying every day seated at her mahogany desk in her room doesn't help – but little by little, she finally learns to tame that feeling of regret she feels inside of her; a feeling she still unconsciously nurses from time to time, though, by asking questions about him to Rebecca's boyfriend when they're together. But it doesn't mean anything, she tells herself. It's just to test how indifferent she can really be at the mention of his name.

That's how she hears about him doing his clerkship in Pathology. Some fourth-year students she meets thanks to Rebecca call him 'the undertaker' because, they say, he doesn't talk to anybody and spends a lot more time in the morgue than his sub-internship requires, performing autopsies, or in the blood bank, reviewing lab results over and over to cross-reference the data with the typical onsets of immune diseases and extremely rare infectious diseases. Everyone agrees to say he's a curmudgeon, an ass with a God complex, an antisocial lunatic, but nobody can deny he's also a genius.

In the beginning, every time she hears from him, by chance or because she deliberately chooses to ask, her heart speeds up in her chest and a spasm contracts her womb, and every time, she has to fight the urge to close her eyes because she knows it will bring back memories of him caressing her skin, kissing her, _fucking_ her against the wall in her room, and on her desk, giving her the most mind-blowing orgasms she's ever had in her life so far.

As weeks goes by, she meets a few new guys at different parties she goes to, more by habit than by real desire to have fun. Some of them hit on her more insistently than others. Some even make her laugh. She sleeps with one of them in October – exactly one month after her night with House. She didn't even think about it until, at some point during the act, she realizes how unsatisfying the sex is for her.

She thought good sex was supposed to feel good, and truth is, Peter (the guy she's having sex with) _is_ good at it. Objectively, she can't blame him for not doing everything right; with his hips, his hands, and his mouth; doing exactly the right thing to get her off, but she doesn't. She turns her head to the side and she notices a calendar on the wall. It reads October, 26th. _One month after House_. In that moment, as Peter starts panting on top of her, that's all she can think about.

And it makes her want to cry.

# # # # #

The vast majority of students leave the campus for Thanksgiving, but House stays in Ann Arbor despite his mother's repeated attempts at coaxing him to visit her and his father for the holiday.

During one of her calls one morning, he hears his father's voice in the background, grumbling that "there's no point in trying to convince the little thickheaded bastard" and that "he's probably better there, learning how not to fuck another year of his life if he ever wants to get a decent job someday."

Blythe laughs nervously and tries to downplay her husband's spiteful remark by saying he didn't really mean it, but House perfectly knows that he does. That's exactly the reason why he won't come home for the holiday; because he doesn't want to hear John repeat to him again and again that the only real, respectable men he knows out there don't waste ten years of their lives studying how to prescribe aspirin to sissies. Real, respectable men join the army and, must they be doctors, at least do something useful with their training, like treating soldiers.

On Thanksgiving day, the 26th of November, House takes an empty bus to the campus (the road have become too icy for him to ride his bike) and he goes to that little café where he and Cuddy went after Endocrinology class a while ago and had their first, real conversation together. He finds a seat at the same table where they sat then, by the window, orders a pumpkin pie and a coffee and, as he looks outside at the layer of immaculate snow that covers the lawn, he realizes it's been exactly two months since he and Cuddy spent a night together. _Two months_.

And it painfully feels like an eternity already.

# # # # #

Cuddy spends the Winter Break in New Jersey with her family.

Her father is recovering from a minor angina (that's what he tells her anyway when she starts worrying about how pale he is and how tired he looks, even though he's supposed to be getting some rest) but the upside is that she can spend all the time she wants with him as he doesn't have to be at the hospital all day, like he usually is.

It helps her cope with the otherwise, though expected, annoying presence of her mother who can't help meddling with her life, curious about who she's friends with, and if they're Jewish, at least… And what does she do in the evenings after class? And is she really sure she will make it through so many years of University training because, well, it's not too late to consider a career in another field, more suitable for women? And then, inevitably, comes: "Isn't there a way to skip that endless residency program, because Esther, my friend from the Community Charity Group, says she knows someone who went straight to family medicine after med-school and she now has a very wealthy practice in town all the while having time enough to take care of her young kids at home."

And "Oh, by the way, David, Esther's son, is going to finish law school very soon, and he's a very nice young man. Julia met him and she will tell you that he is. Come on, ask her!" And the usual: "Yes, because Julia, _she_ helps me in the Community after school, which she can, obviously, since she's not studying 600 miles away from here." And finally, "I really think you should meet David. I'm sure you and him would get along very well. Maybe I should invite him over for dinner one evening. How about tomorrow night? And for God's sake, tie your hair in a decent bun. It looks like a wild bush!"

David is a nice guy. Lisa doesn't have much to say other than that he is, indeed. Arlene invites him on the first Saturday evening of the Winter Break. They all sit at the table and eat, and during dinner, Arlene monopolizes the conversation with awkward, inappropriate comments like "how much money does a lawyer really earn? See, Lisa? With that kind of salary, there's no need for a woman to work!" that make even her husband feel uncomfortable.

Julia giggles and shoots side glances at David, who smiles politely in return, but the more her mother goes on and on with her unsubtle little speech about how wonderful it is to be able to spend time at home with your children and see them grow up, the more Lisa feels sick to her stomach. She still finds it in her to nod in silent approval, but with her jaw clenched hard to avoid screaming.

After dinner, despite Arlene's protestations, she leaves everyone to go to her room and she calls Joshua, her friend from high school who used to have a serious crush on her back then. They meet the next day, at his place. She tells him about her mother being her usual insufferable self, and how she's probably secretly arranging to hook her up with David, Esther's son, so that she could give her half a dozen, rosy, perfect little Jewish grand-children. Joshua gets indignant with her, which Cuddy finds comforting. They have sex. Afterwards, Joshua jokes that he will never let Arlene decide who she should date and a stupid idea pops in Cuddy's head just then.

And so, two days later, before she has time to truly realize how completely reckless it is, they're both standing in front of a judge of the municipal court and getting married.

Cuddy doesn't talk to anyone about it. And she makes Joshua swear that he won't, either. She did it on irrational impulse, completely out of the blue, because in her mind, Joshua felt like the safest choice she could think of to prove a point to her mother: That she, and only she, could decide who she should be with, or even if she should be with anyone, at all. But in truth, being nineteen, rebellious and most of all impulsive, she's not really fully grasped the extent of her irresponsible move.

Until six days later, as her mother starts talking about David again, and suggests inviting him once more so they can learn to know each other better. Lisa loses her patience then, yelling that she's not a prize, that she won't meet any more of her friends' sons to indulge her mother because she's free, and old enough to decide for herself, and proof is… she's married!

She didn't expect it would make Arlene that angry but, worse, she didn't expect her father would stand by his wife and be so rightfully furious at her, his favorite daughter, either.

Threats of cutting her off to force her to quit med-school, and a whole lot of theatrical crying and shouting later, Cuddy has no other choice but to accept her parents' terms: She will immediately file for divorce, never mention that shameful incident to anyone – especially not to Arlene's friends in the community - and never, ever try to get in contact with Joshua again. Thankfully, after a late, mostly embarrassed phone call to Daniel (her father's best friend who also happens to be a lawyer) all the necessary arrangements are made so that everything can be taken care of quickly. No fault divorce in New Jersey required couples to live at least 18 months apart, so as soon as the Winter Break is over, she will go back to Michigan, lock herself in her room and do nothing but study until this stupid mistake is put behind her.

# # # # #

**[1988]**

After a first clerkship in Pathology, House has gotten a spot in Internal Medicine, more specifically in the sub-internship that focuses on diagnosing multisystem autoimmune disorders. It starts right after the Winter Break for a four-week rotation at the University Hospital.

As time passes, he's finally managed to feel less bitter about being expelled from Johns Hopkins. Of course, he still thinks repeating his fourth-year is a gigantic waste of his time, but somehow, he can also see it as an opportunity to immerse himself in extremely specialized fields of medicine, spending hours on end reading patients' clinical reports, interpreting data, and trying to determine the logic and patterns behind rare diseases' symptoms.

Over the last months, he's acquired an incredible amount of specific knowledge, which sometimes rivals with – if not surpasses - that of his professors. The occasions to revel in the uniquely rewarding pleasure of proving it to them never run out, but House doesn't take advantage of it as much as he could, and surely would have just a few months ago when he was still a smug pain in the ass, so full of himself that failure was never an option for him.

Except, things have changed now. He's still as much of a jerk (who thinks everyone is a useless moron) as he was before, but one that had to learn the virtue of keeping a low profile so that he could get what he wants. And right now, what he wants is to be accepted for a double residency in both Pathology, Infectious Disease, and Nephrology; something exceptional enough to be reserved for the best of the best only. So he swallows back his pride and avoids having run-ins with his professors as much as he can. All in all, he manages to keep his mouth shut, but in doing so, he's certainly mastered the art of stifling a sneer and rolling his eyes in the most theatrical fashion better than anyone else can.

That particular brand of "bad boy attitude," half jerk, half mysterious-genius-who-doesn't-socialize-much-with-people doesn't leave girls indifferent. One in particular (that he met at the University Hospital where she's doing her first clerkship in Obstetrics) seems determined to get to "know him better," always finding pretexts to run into him during her rotations, inviting him for coffee in the hospital cafeteria, or asking for his opinion on this or that case that she supposedly finds too complex to understand.

She's nice. At least she doesn't bore him too much. She even makes him laugh with anecdotes about her patients sometimes. And she's not totally unattractive, too. House has spent the entire winter mostly locked in his studio barely seeing anyone, and studying all the time instead, so when Lauren suggests they go to a party together to celebrate the end of their four-week clerkship, he accepts.

After all, he's a guy, with needs. It's high time he starts going out again and indulging them for a change.

# # # # #

Despite her six-day marriage fiasco and the anger of epic proportions that it caused to her parents, Cuddy hasn't changed much of her College routine after the Winter Break. Admittedly, she's not too proud of what she's done, but somehow, she's still happy that she dared stand up to her mother and proved to her that she is an adult that can make her own decisions.

It's not entirely true, though, because she still very much needs her parents – if anything, their financial support - to move forward in her life, but she feels freer and less pressured to conform to her mother's every wish now.

She's made up her mind: When she'll have graduated from med-school, she will enter a residency program to get a specialty in Endocrinology. After six months of auditing Professor Fillmore's class, she's developed a real interest in the subject, finding every new case of endocrine and metabolic disorders that she learns to be truly fascinating.

She works as hard as she can to get satisfying grades – disappointing her parents, and she, with mediocre results is out of the question – but she still has some fun, going to parties with Rebecca as often as the circumstances allow her to.

John from Endocrinology class is still trying to make a move with her, although, so far, she hasn't said yes. He's interesting - as interesting as a decently intelligent guy can be - and undoubtedly handsome, too. She tries not to tell herself that he's not House, when the little voice in her head is prompt to point out to her how ordinary John's ambitions are, or how 'nice' his manners can be. Somehow, she knows that 'ordinary and nice' is exactly what she should aspire to, at least exactly what would please her mother, but she can't completely forget how thrilling 'bad and genius ass' is, either.

She knows that House is barely going out anymore. Dave told her that he's quit his band, too. Apparently, they're having a hard time finding a new guy who plays the keyboards as well as House does. She's also heard that he's doing his second clerkship in Internal Medicine. Sometimes, when she passes by the University Hospital, she spots his bike parked there. Sometimes, she even drives there for no reason, in the hope that, maybe, she will run into him by chance.

But she never does.

# # # # #

John insists on taking her out on a date on Valentine's Day, but Cuddy doesn't want to give him false hopes so, as it falls on a Sunday, they compromise: Dave's friends are throwing a party in South campus and John agrees to go with her. That way, Cuddy knows that if John gets too forward, she will get rid of him but still have fun with her friends all the same. She's definitely partying less than she used to, but going out on week-ends, dancing, laughing, or simply unwinding and letting off steam, is still part of her routine.

She dances most of the night. At some point, "Faith" by George Michael starts playing and, even though she used to love that song a lot, she can't stand the idea of dancing with John to it, so she uses being thirsty as an excuse to leave the dance floor. At the bar, she pours herself a glass and starts drinking, leaned against the counter, while observing her friends from a distance.

"Hi Partypants," someone beside her says.

She jumps in surprise at the unmistakable sound of that voice and turns to the side, ending face to face with House.

"Hey," is all she manages to articulate, while trying to catch her breath.

He points nonchalantly at her glass with his fingers and smiles roguishly at her.

"Whatcha drinking?"

"Bourbon," she says, jutting her chin up defiantly.

"I thought you didn't like Bourbon," he says, his smile growing bigger.

"People change."

"People _don't_ change," he refutes.

She puffs and deliberately swallows the rest of her drink in one gulp before slamming her glass back on the counter.

"Well," she says a bit haughtily, "maybe I liked it all along, then. Who knows?"

"Who knows?" he repeats, ever so slightly leaning in and planting his eyes in hers.

The intensity of his stare on her sends a shiver down her spine and she briefly averts her gaze, feeling exposed.

"I still have your flask, by the way," she says, recovering her poise a little. "You forgot it after you—"

"Yeah," he says looking away. "You can keep it if you like."

"It's empty now," she says with the slightest hint of regret in her voice.

"Ooh, so you really do like Bourbon, uh?" he teases with a smile.

"I didn't finish it all by myself," she lies, tilting her head to the side and looking him straight in the eyes to study his reaction.

House perfectly gets the allusion that Cuddy intended to make to hint that other guys have been in her room with her since him. For a moment, he narrows his eyes at her, as if he was trying to read her mind, but he makes no comment.

"So," she says, slightly piqued in her pride by what she reads as indifference on his part. "I heard you've just finished your second sub-internship in Internal Medicine?"

"Oh, you _heard_?" he says, cocking an eyebrow, looking amused.

She instantly regrets implying that she could somehow keep track of him with her question, especially when his infuriatingly self-satisfied smile indicates how much he seems pleased about it.

"Just the usual campus rumors," she clarifies with a shrug.

He nods, and keeps studying her face for a minute, but she's completely unable to decipher what he thinks in that instant. She hopes she looks as unfazed as he does, although she suspects she probably doesn't.

"What about you?" he says, breaking the heavy silence between them.

She briefly considers telling him that she got married, just to see if it will affect him, but of course, she doesn't dare. Instead, she smiles assertively and looks him right in the eyes when she says:

"I'm fine. Doing great! You?"

"Doing great, too," he says, but his voice sounds strangely more melancholic than it did only seconds before.

"Greg! I've been looking everywhere for you," a girl's voice suddenly interrupts them.

Cuddy lets go of House's gaze to look at the person standing beside him. The first thing she notices is her hand resting on his upper arm; a possessive gesture, she thinks. She looks up and her eyes meet with a smiling face, rather pretty, if she's being honest.

"Hi, I'm Lauren," the girl says, extending her hand to greet Lisa.

"Hi," she says, shaking it.

Before any of them has time to say anything, John joins the group, looking concerned.

"Is everything ok?" he asks, wrapping his arm around Cuddy's waist.

It's impossible to miss the alpha male glare that John shoots at House just then. Lauren frowns, taken a bit off guard, but House smiles reassuringly at her.

"Hey John," he says, eying him up and down a bit defiantly. "Lauren and I were just leaving."

"Already?" the girl says, looking disappointed.

"It's Valentine's Day, pumpkin," House says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, while shooting a glance at Cuddy at the same time. "We've got better things to do, right?"

Lauren giggles ingenuously, and hooks her arm around House's arm, getting closer to him and rubbing herself against his side flirtatiously.

"We do," she says beaming.

Cuddy bites her bottom lip, and squares her shoulders, smiling politely, but she can't ignore the twinge she's just felt in her heart at the scene.

"Well, you guys have fun," she says, pulling out her best faked smile. "Let's go dance," she adds, turning her head to the side to look at John.

"Sure!"

John lets go of her waist and starts walking back to the dance floor. Before turning on her heel to follow him, Cuddy looks House in the eyes one last time.

"T'was nice seeing you," she says trying to sound offhand.

They hold each other's gaze for a little while longer than necessary. It lasts barely more than a few seconds but, this time, she's certain that she saw a hint of jealousy, perhaps even regret in House's eyes.

Or maybe, she only imagined there was one because then, it would mean she's not the only one feeling it…

# # # # #

Mid-March, on "Match Day," the National Residency Matching Program matches House with his first choice: A double residency program in both Immunology/Infectious Disease and Nephrology at Yale University. Due to his academic misconduct at Johns Hopkins, number one university for the Infectious Disease residency, House had to scrap his primary ambition of being accepted there, but Yale, one of the top five programs in the country for the specialty, is more than just a consolation prize; especially since without any letter of recommendation from the Dean of Medicine (Reitman wouldn't obviously sign one and the Dean at UMich didn't know him enough to vouch for him) he had no guarantee that he'd get accepted in the specialties he wanted.

He feels proud, and mostly relieved to finally be able to move onward doing what he's passionate about. As the weight is lift off of his chest, he also feels like celebrating; something he hasn't done in a long time. But then, he realizes bitterly, he has no one to celebrate with.

He hasn't seen Lauren since late February. They had sex on Valentine's Day, and a few more times after that, but it quickly became obvious to House that she was not the kind of girl he wanted to spend his spare time with: Clever, but not really that witty, or intellectually challenging; Sweet, but too demanding; Funny, but not particularly sarcastic. After their fourth night together, even if it probably made him look like an insensitive jerk, he'd broken up with her and stopped seeing her.

The sex wasn't even that great, anyway. Not as great as it was with…

He briefly considers going to see _her_, give it – them – another chance, but then, he thinks better of it. She's moved on with her life. Last time he saw her, she was evidently dating that guy from Endocrinology. She seemed happy. At least, she seemed perfectly content with her life; a life he was not a part of anymore. No, really, taking up with Cuddy again after months of silence is a bad idea.

But damn, was she beautiful! Sexy, sarcastic and so perfectly intellectually challenging…

# # # # #

During the summer of 1988, Cuddy's father takes her to Ecuador, just the two of them together for a week, supposedly as a present for her 20th birthday, but in truth, essentially to spend some quality father-daughter time without Arlene around.

He makes very little comments about her marrying Joshua, but he doesn't fail to remind her how big a mistake she's made. Cuddy remembers how angry her father was when he heard what she'd done and she feels ashamed for the first time since December. She promises him she will be less reckless and immature in the future and swears that she will never disappoint him again. He smiles, and tells her that she still has plenty of time to become reasonable, and that he trusts her to have learned a valuable lesson in life.

Then he tells her how proud he is of her, and how brilliant he's always thought she was. He tells her he knows she will be a great doctor and that she must never let anyone get in the way of her dreams, even, he jokes, if that someone happens to be her mother, who can be quite invasive sometimes and not always tactful.

"Your mother loves you," he says, "and she sees all the unique potential that you have in you. She just doesn't know how to tell it to you. It doesn't matter anyway, because, honey, whatever you choose to become, I'm sure you will do great."

Cuddy doesn't really understand why her father needs to be so solemn, when she still has many years ahead of her before she will have to make definite career choices. He will help her make them when the time comes anyway, she says; nothing is definite, and she will surely need his advice to avoid making mistakes. She still tells him about her wish to opt for Endocrinology, and he smiles fondly at her, before looking away.

Later that day, they go to Sumaco Napo-Galeras National Park, where many lemur and chimpanzee specimens can be seen. Their guide let them approach a group of monkeys that are used to the presence of tourists, and Cuddy's father takes a picture of her as she holds one of them in her arms.

She doesn't know it yet, but these holidays are the last she'll ever spend with her father, who dies of a heart attack during spring of the following year…

# # # # #

**[1989]**

In June, Cuddy returns to New Jersey for the summer before starting her senior years as an undergraduate. Home feels different without her father. Her mother's behavior is more erratic than ever. Now that she's a widow, Arlene never misses an opportunity to call for sympathy by emotionally blackmailing her daughters every chance she gets. Julia, younger and more fragile, falls for it, and gets even closer to her mother than she already is, the two of them seeking comfort in each other and unconsciously excluding Lisa out of their grieving duo.

As a result, Cuddy feels terribly alone as she tries to deal with the painful absence of her father all by herself.

One afternoon, 18 months to the day after she got married to her high-school friend Joshua, Daniel makes a surprise visit to her, bringing the divorce papers with him. He, too, is deeply affected by his best friend's death. For the first time in three months, Cuddy finally finds someone she can talk to, someone who understands her grief. Daniel is very attentive, caring and patient with her. And he listens, without judging. When he suggests they have lunch, she accepts.

Then, they have dinner, and… one thing leading to another, one night, in a hotel room, they have sex.

But Daniel is her father's best friend, and he's married on top of it. While she can't deny that feeling cherished and desired for a couple hours felt undeniably good, Cuddy realizes it also was a terrible mistake. She'd promised to her father that she would never disappoint him again and even though he isn't there with her anymore, she feels like she's betrayed his memory all the same.

The next day she announces to her stunned mother that she's decided to spend the summer in Ann Arbor to focus on her medical training and starts studying for her MCAT. It's primordial for her to get a perfect score if she wants to be admitted in the best med-school at the end of her undergraduate years. She hasn't told anyone about it, not even Rebecca, but she hopes to get accepted at Johns Hopkins because it's one of the best Universities of Medicine in the country, and because, when she feels alone, she still thinks about _him_ sometimes; the guy who was expelled from Johns Hopkins and changed her life in more ways than she's willing to admit…

# # # # #

**[1991]**

In order to get board certified by the American Board of Pathology, House still has to publish a certain amount of approved researches. After completing a three-year residency at Yale, he's now looking for a job as a trained physician.

And, if all goes well, that medical convention on Clinical Pathology in New Orleans, where he's expected to present the results of his latest study will thankfully be the last he will have to attend before seriously starting to apply for a position in a renowned hospital.

House hates medical conventions. Everyone congratulates everyone on their superb achievement in this or that specific field in the most hypocritical way there is, when, in fact, they all spend the rest of the year trying to discredit each other's work in order to obtain subventions for their research, and not the ones they supposedly admire.

Consequently, House avoids mingling with people as much as he can, and sits alone in the lobby, studying the behavior of his peers; a hobby he will never get tired of. There's that girl, obviously still an intern, who's blatantly flirting with an older guy – probably her attendant… And that uptight woman over there, nervously checking her watch every two minutes, who's been reading the same series of notes over and over again for the last half hour. She's surely next on the program to present some ground-breaking results on something everyone will have forgotten about over dinner tonight.

And then, there's this young guy. He's alone. He doesn't talk to anybody. Instead, as House noticed, he just carries around an unopened envelop with him all day. What's in the envelop? House has no idea, but it doesn't fail to intrigue him. He decides to follow him to the bar. The young man drinks several cocktails, seated at the counter, with his envelop cautiously put on a stool beside him, untouched.

There're few patrons in the bar at this early hour of the day, but one of them keeps putting coins in the juke box to play Billy Joel's "Leave a Tender Moment Alone" over and over and, at some point, completely out of the blue – and much to House's delight - the young guy with the envelop angrily throws a bottle of scotch in the juke box's direction, completely missing his target, and breaking an antique mirror into pieces, instead.

Needless to say, House instantly decides that this guy is definitely the most interesting participant there is in that otherwise very boring medical convention.

His name, as he'll learn later, is James Wilson.

He's apparently still a med-student, who's made the stupid decision to marry one of his college crush, and the demanding bitch, Samantha, who's found an unpaid residency in Radiology – forcing James to juggle between two jobs and med school to pay the bills – has suddenly decided that she wasn't happily married anymore.

The envelop, House finds out, actually contains the divorce papers she's filed against the poor guy without ever having in any way hinted at the fact that she was feeling frustrated in her marriage before.

Yes. Definitely not boring…

# # # # #

**[1994]**

At only 26 years old, Cuddy graduates from Harvard med-school, finishing second of her class, and one of the youngest to get an MD in the prestigious university.

She's become hardened over the years, and more determined than she ever was in her younger years. During med school she's made a point of honor to excel in every field so she would become the great doctor that her father would have loved her to be. She's made Alpha Omega Alpha, too, based on her remarkable leadership character. Her father would be proud of her, undeniably. Still, Cuddy is only partially satisfied with herself.

Despite getting an excellent score at her MCAT when she was at UMich, she didn't get accepted at Johns Hopkins like she'd have wanted to, but Harvard, ranked second best med-school in the country in Internal Medicine felt like a decently acceptable alternative.

After her graduation, she gets a position for an internship in Endocrinology in both the Cleveland Clinic and MGH in Boston. Cleveland is the top ranked hospital in the specialty, but Cuddy still considers staying in the east coast to be closer to her mother.

That summer, quite ironically, her sister Julia marries David, the son of her mother's friend, Esther. Arlene, of course, is ecstatic. After the ceremony, Cuddy tells her mother about her plan to stay in Boston for her internship, hoping that it would make her happy; if anything – although she's not going to give her grandchildren any time soon – because she will at least stay close to her family. Not so surprisingly, Arlene tells her she doesn't need to have her close, as Julia and her husband just bought a house in the same neighborhood where she lives.

"Isn't that Clinic in Ohio more prestigious than the one in Boston, anyway?" Arlene tells her with a shrug. "Go to Cleveland, Lisa. Having Julia nearby is enough to make me happy."

Cuddy stomachs the insensitive blow with bravery, trying to persuade herself that she doesn't need her mother's affection as much as she needs to pursue her personal goals. She finally decides to opt for the position in Cleveland, and leaves for a two-year residency in Ohio, soon after her younger sister's wedding.

It's not until many years later that she finally realizes that her mother, as tactless and harsh as she was with her, only pushed her because, deep down, she was actually convinced that her older daughter could achieve great things…

# # # # #

**[1997]**

After her residency in Cleveland, Cuddy completes a fellowship in Endocrinology, staying in Ohio for one more year.

In the meantime, Julia and her husband David welcome their first child, a boy, which, as expected, still makes Arlene happier than any professional achievements Lisa can pride herself on.

And yet, at only 29 years old, she just managed to get a Vice President position at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. She's a hard worker, with a brilliant student history and excellent references. Still, she's young, and a woman, so in a man's world like medicine, she sees fit to lie to HR about her real age, pretending to be 31 to stack all the odds in her favor to get the job.

A year later, allegedly at the age of 32 – while she's in fact just 30 – she is promoted Dean of Medicine, hence becoming one of only three women in the whole country to hold such a prestigious position in a major hospital, and second youngest Dean of Medicine in the history of PPTH.

Her personal life, however, is predictably less successful.

She's been in an on-off relationship with her attendant in Cleveland for a little over a year, but decided to break it off when rumors about her sleeping her way through the top started spreading in the hospital.

One of her life priorities has always been to ensure herself (and everyone else) that she owes her success to no one else but her. And if it means putting aside her chances to be in a more serious relationship with someone, it's a sacrifice she's willing to make, and has made over the years, without hesitation.

# # # # #

**[1998]**

House is happy.

Four years ago, he met Stacy, a beautiful, and brilliant constitutional lawyer at a 'doctors vs. lawyers' paintball tournament. The young, assertive woman, who'd recently graduated from Duke, shot him in the back (something that's still the subject of playful banters between them) and, as a result, put him out of the game.

Undeniably attracted to the lawyer's beauty, who'd managed to get to him (both metaphorically and literally) and, if he was being honest, more than a little impressed by her sass, House invited her on a date the same day.

Despite that first night being a total disaster, they moved in together merely a week after their first encounter.

Stacy is witty, challenging, with a perfectly sarcastic sense of humor. She's one of the few people House trusts unconditionally. Everybody lies – a motto he likes to repeat to his fellows when they're too prompt to believe what the patients tell them – but Stacy is the exception. She's blunt, and honest, and she always speaks her mind with House, even if it means telling him he's an asshole who's too proud and stubborn to admit his mistakes.

They have fun together. She's successful in her job, supportive of his (most of the time, that is). The sex is great, too. From House's (subjective) point of view, Stacy doesn't have many flaws; except, maybe one: her ridiculous religious belief, something he likes to tease her about, and one of the main reasons why they ever have heated arguments together.

No, really, House _is_ happy. So happy, it's almost indecent. Even "suspicious," as a cynical man like him likes to put it.

But, from a professional point of view, the reality is, in fact, a little less perfect.

By the time he met Stacy, House was working at NY Presbyterian Hospital as a physician in their Immunology Department. While working there, he's tried the best he can to swallow back his pride and not let his frequent frustrations over the Board's stupid, misguided decisions get to him. But after less than two years, he got fired after having forged a patient's blood test so he could receive the treatment he needed to cure him. The patient's infection remained undetectable in the lab results, but House _knew_ he had it and he couldn't just do nothing about it.

It didn't matter that he saved the guy's life eventually, or that he was right about his diagnosis the whole time. Apparently, the board members in NY-P Hospital didn't quite endorse that kind of uniquely _efficient _methods.

NYPH is not the only fiasco in House's early career. In fact, in barely five years, he's held no fewer than four different positions in four different hospitals, the last of which lasting less than eight months.

In the summer 1998, after having been fired from Mount Sinai Hospital in New York, he dangerously comes close to being unemployable in most of the Tri-State area, which is the worst that can happen to him at that moment in his life, as Stacy has just been made partner in one of the biggest law firms in Trenton and leaving New Jersey seems unconceivable if he ever wants to preserve his relationship with her.

He gets several interviews, though, all of them ending in disaster as soon as the board starts tracking his past job history. After the fifth infructuous one, House reluctantly contemplates moving out to the west coast. Stacy tries to persuade him that she's ready to follow him, but in truth, House doesn't believe her. But more than that, he doesn't want her to. He feels guilty about imposing choices she didn't choose to make on her.

They start fighting way more often than usual, and – which is worse - not just about religion anymore. Consequently, their otherwise perfect relationship becomes undeniably tenser during that time.

Until one day when, ironically almost as a sign from Providence, House stumbles upon an article about a young, brilliant doctor who's just been named Dean of Medicine at PPTH while fumbling through the pages of a medical review.

And that doctor is no other than Lisa Cuddy…

# # # # #

**["_Because you're a good doctor who couldn't get himself hired at a blood bank so I got you cheap_."]**

In September 1998, determined to convince her to hire him, House steps into PPTH's lobby for the first time in his life, his strides confident, and his head bubbling with irrefutable arguments that he's sure she won't be able to turn down.

Lisa Cuddy…

He hadn't thought about her in a long time, but he has to admit that just seeing her picture in that article was enough to bring back old memories of her that he didn't think could be so easily and vividly revived.

She's still as beautiful as she was when he first met her, maybe even more now that she's got that unmistakable glow of successful assertiveness radiating from her. The article offered a detailed summary of her resume and he was impressed to read how successful she'd been after her undergraduate years in Michigan. The mention of her specialty, Endocrinology, made him smile, too.

Nothing in life ever happens by chance, he thinks, as he walks towards her office.

It's located on the ground floor, past the nurse counter of an outpatient clinic. On the counter, there's a jar of lollipops. That detail is specific enough to catch his attention. He stops and opens the jar to take a lollipop. Smiling, he pushes the cherry-flavored candy between his lips and heads directly to the double glass door of her office, unannounced.

"Lisa Cuddy," he exclaims cheerfully, as he enters. "Or should I call you Dean Cuddy?"

For a few seconds, she freezes with her mouth agape, looking completely flabbergasted behind her desk, as she's visibly trying to process the shock of seeing him stand in front of her.

"Gregory... _House_?!" she says after a while. "Wow, I mean, it's been what, ten years?"

"Eleven," he says without missing a beat. "But who's counting?"

"What are you doing here?" she says, still looking rather stunned. "Did we…" She grabs her organizer on the corner of her desk and opens it, hastily fumbling through the pages. "Did we have an appointment, or…"

"We didn't."

"Oh. Of course."

Suddenly recovering her poise, she pauses and leans forward, cradling her chin in her hands and intensely studying him for a minute. That unexpected change of attitude – from shocked to almost amused – takes House off guard. Confused, he arches his eyebrows and stares back at her with a quizzical look.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering what could possibly bring you here," she says with a mischievous smile. "Oh, and please, take a seat," she adds gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her.

House sits down and frowns, dumbfounded.

"I heard about you," she says composedly, casually leaning back in her chair again. "You've got quite an impressive track record—"

"Thank you. Since you're mentioning it, I—"

"Forged documents," she carries on, as if she didn't hear him. "Public insult to an esteemed member of the board at Mercy, insubordination—"

"I saved the patient's life," he interrupts, vexed, when he understands she's outsmarted him and ruined his plan to impress her. "The _esteemed member_ is a moron. And it's not really insubordination when the order is completely idiotic!"

She smiles fondly at him for a brief instant and then her face takes on a serious mask again.

"What do you want?" she says, getting to the point.

He puffs, but not because he's upset. In truth, he's quite impressed by her no-bullshit attitude, and the way she's anticipated the motives of his visit. But then, if he remembers correctly Lisa Cuddy never seemed like a stupid girl to him even when she was just an undergraduate in College. Actually, now that he's looking at her, seated behind that desk in her impeccable woman suit, she seems even more excitingly challenging than he ever remembers her being.

"I need a job," he tells her with disarming straightforwardness realizing honesty is his best ally in that instant.

"I don't need an immunologist," she counters. "Right now, I need an oncologist."

"Hire me, and I can get you the best one in the country as a bonus," he replies tit for tat.

"I doubt that," she says totally unimpressed by his bluff. "Andrews doesn't want to leave the Mayo Clinic, even though I keep offering him a board membership and the promise that he'll get enough subventions to run his own department of cancer research."

House can't repress a smile upon hearing her witty repartee.

"Fine," he says, amused. "Second best. Or very good, if you prefer. His name is James Wilson."

"How do I know he even exists?" she says, smiling too.

"I'm serious. Cuddy, I really need this job."

"There's no job. But I'll take that Wilson guy's telephone number if you have it."

"I'm board certified in Pathology, Infectious Disease and Nephrology," he insists. "Actually I happen to be quite excellent at diagnosing sick people, who, I'm told, are everywhere in places like hospitals, and aren't you running a… now, wait… _hospital_?"

Cuddy rolls her eyes, and bites her bottom lip to hide her smile. That's when he knows he's won.

"Come on, me, a brilliant doctor, plus a decent oncologist. I can guarantee you you're going to impress the suits in that conference room next time you have a board meeting."

He straightens up in his chair, and flashes his best self-confident smile at her.

For a long while she says nothing, and just stares at him with narrowed eyes, visibly considering his offer.

"Fine," she says after what seems like an eternity. "We've just opened a free clinic. I suppose I can justify hiring a new physician for the consults there."

"I'm board certified in Pathology and Infectious Disease!" he protests.

"Which makes you very good at diagnosing sick people," she replies. "_Your_ words, not mine. And I'm told there are lots of sick people waiting to be diagnosed in a day clinic-"

"With a cold! Or eczema, and all sorts of totally boring medical conditions that aren't even challenging," he exclaims, obstinately trying to make her see how much of a waste of his time that would be.

She pauses to look at him again, and he's unable to decipher what she's thinking in that moment but her eyes shine with a beautiful glitter that makes her look inspired, confident, and perfectly in control of the situation.

"I want tenure," he says.

"Two-year probation. Four hours of clinic duty a day, and access to the lab the rest of the time under the Department Head's supervision," she replies unfazed.

"Six-month probation. One hour of clinic a day, and a position as an immunologist with full access to the lab under no supervision," he counters.

"One year," she says without missing a beat. "And you get a position in our Immunology Department under _my_ supervision, but only part-time. The rest of the week, you need to be in the clinic. Voluntarily."

"That's robbery!" he protests.

"We can renegotiate those terms once you get tenure, _if_ you get past your one-year probationary period," she says with a smile.

House's eyes widen in stunned surprise, and for a short while he just stares at her with his mouth agape, speechless.

Behind her desk, Cuddy tilts her head to the side and stares back at him, unconsciously pursing her lips with an adorable, almost childish pout.

House catches that look on her face, and right after, she sees him catch that look on her face, and instantly, she straightens up and clears her throat to compose herself.

"So," she says all business again, "do we have a deal?"

House gets up and extends his hand to her.

"We do," he says.

She gets up too, and takes his hand, shaking it vigorously. He notices that her palm is slightly sweaty, but her face remains perfectly undecipherable when she says:

"And don't forget to call James Winston to tell him about the position in Oncology."

"_Wilson_," he corrects. "And I will."

"Good."

She sits back in her chair and takes a deep breath, smiling victoriously at him.

"Good," she repeats.

"Thank you," he mumbles, looking down at the floor self-consciously, as he stands in front of her.

"Don't thank me," she says, still smiling. "You don't have a job, yet. I still need to convince the board to hire you."

"Yeah. I have every faith in your ability to do just that," he says, shooting a brief, but very conspicuous glance at her cleavage.

Her mouth drops open for a second, but she doesn't reply anything.

"So, Dean of Medicine, uh?" he says, more cheerfully. "Is that your way of making a difference?"

By the look of surprise on her face, and despite her quickly pulling herself together, he can tell she's taken off guard by his subtle reference to a conversation they had together a long time ago.

She bites her lower lip, again (she apparently still does that a lot when she's flustered, he notices) and tilts her head to the side to study him.

"Did I not just make one by hiring you?" she replies, with a hint of mischief in her voice.

"I thought I wasn't hired yet."

"Yeah, well… We'll see," she says, getting up again and smoothing her skirt down with the palms of her hands.

She puts out her left hand to signal him that their unscheduled interview is over.

"I'm sorry, I need to get back to work," she says, as he takes her hand in his to shake it.

But instead of releasing his grip right away, he keeps her slender fingers trapped inside his palm a little longer.

"No ring," he says casually, turning her hand up to expose her bare ring finger. "That's what the article said."

Again, her eyebrows briefly arch up in surprise, and she swiftly removes her hand from his, instantly bringing it to her neck to fiddle with her necklace's pendant.

Nervous, he thinks. Or is it a touchy subject?

"What happened to John?"

"Who's John?" she says, genuinely clueless.

"John. Blond hair. Brown eyes. Endocrinolgy class… Or was it Jim?"

For a second, she just stares at him with wide eyes, before throwing her head back and letting out a low, throaty laugh.

"Oh God," she says. "I have no idea."

She seems to hesitate for a second, almost imperceptibly shuffling her feet, and then she juts her chin up and plants her eyes in him.

"You?" she says, with perfectly faked offhandedness.

"Do I know what happened to John?" he deliberately teases her.

She tuts in disapproval but doesn't give him the pleasure to elaborate. He smiles.

"Stacy," he says. "Stubborn, strong-headed lawyer. You just did her a favor, by the way. She's been made partner in the holy grail of law firms here. I don't think moving out was ever really part of her plan."

"Oh," Cuddy says, bowing her head.

House can't see her face, and for a moment, he wonders if she feels sorry for him because – as he just implied – he's considered moving, or if she's surprised to hear he's in a relationship.

"Well, I suppose I should let you work now," he says.

"Thanks. I'll have an answer for you by the end of next week," she says. "Please, give your contact info to Brenda before you leave."

"Brenda?"

"My assistant; the one you didn't announce yourself to earlier," she deadpans. "She's also a nurse. You'll find her in the clinic just on your way out."

"Assistant. Of course," he says, amused.

He starts leaving but turns around to face her again as he arrives by the door.

"You drive a hard bargain Lisa Cuddy-"

She opens her mouth to answer but he beats her to it.

"I like it," he adds, narrowing his eyes as if he were assessing her somehow. "This is gonna be interesting…"

(...)

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**_

_After cutting what I already wrote into separate parts, I now have three chapters ready to be posted, and a fourth that I can reasonably assume will be the last one, and which is half-way done._

_So it is safe to say that the wait between chapters shouldn't be too long… ;)_

_Have a nice day ~ maya_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all for your reviews, and thanks to everyone who's read the first part. _

_Here's part 2. I hope you'll enjoy it…_

* * *

><p><strong>** THE FIRST TIME - EPILOGUE **<br>****- part 2 - **

**[1999]**

It isn't long before House proves himself to be the riskiest choice Cuddy has ever made in her professional life.

Of course, he doesn't do his clinic duty. She's lucky he even shows there at all half of the time. But (God only knows how he does it) he manages to nose about in patients' files, or sneak into the Lab and steal test results, and he solves cases; difficult, tricky cases that other PPTH's specialized physicians are unable to handle past the medical care they would usually administrate to patients lying in bed with a death sentence hanging above their heads.

House quickly gains some notoriety in the hospital. One that is rather lukewarm, though: His methods are definitely unconventional (not that Cuddy wasn't prepared for it) but despite his results - or because of them - he predictably irks the ego of several doctors in her staff.

Cuddy had suggested he be under her supervision as a bargaining strategy to hire him, but the truth is, it takes less than a few months for her to become the only one who is willing to do it. More than that, the only one who _can_.

In any case, House seems to enjoy challenging _her_, specifically, and no one else. Whichever crazy idea he has in mind, he goes to her, and their interactions soon become verbal sparring matches that can have the power to suck all the energy out of her. But verbal sparring that also have the power to excite her like nothing else in her job does.

Yes, House stirs up controversy, and he's a giant pain in the ass, but there is something _unique_ about him – something she can't explain – that carries great potential and Cuddy knows it better than anyone.

As a doctor, she admires his incredible intelligence. It is impossible for her to ignore the way his brain works, and the passion that drives him when she remembers how truth, and answers have always mattered to him. He may be unconventional, but she _knows_ his motives are noble, and that he will eschew no means to get what he wants, which will ultimately benefit patients.

As the Dean of Medicine, consequently, she believes he's definitely an asset for PPTH, like no one else in her staff can be. After six months – ironically according to House's initial negotiating terms – she finds herself speaking in his favor in front of the Board to grant him tenure. She's convinced there is a way to use his extreme, but unique talents for the hospital's benefit. She's ambitious, and probably still a little bit utopian, but she has a plan: A Department of Diagnostics. Something revolutionary that will allow House to express his talents where he's best at. She knows she can count on his friend to ensure House will not become unmanageable. James Wilson (who she hired as an oncologist soon after him) is indeed an ally. The two of them have become friends, and when it comes to deal with House, Cuddy knows she can rely on Wilson to defuse the worst crisis before they come blowing up in her face.

And as a woman...

As a woman, she can't ignore the fact that working with House every day, listening to him grouse, being challenged by him, never knowing when, or how, are undeniably part of the reasons why she gets up in the mornings and goes to work with an extra dose of excitement she wasn't feeling until then. He's forty, and radiating an unmistakable alpha-male confidence that appeals to her more than she's willing to admit. But it's there all the same: the way he barges in her office with that self-confident smile that shouts: "Let's see how you're going to deal with what I have for you today;" the way he forces her to be more assertive, more aware of her feminine power, somehow; the way he makes her feel like she can understand him better than anyone else can, with that piercing blue gaze of his, staring at her with an intensity she can never really decipher.

Yes, as a woman, she's very aware that having House around isn't just a professional challenge. And because it sometimes feels so easy to let herself be sucked into the dangerous spiral of the past, where intoxicating memories of him mixes with the present, she's careful to keep her emotional distance with him the best she can. He's with Stacy now, anyway. The lawyer is a beautiful, brilliant woman, and there's no doubt House is crazy about her. She's seen the two of them together at Fundraising events organized by PPTH (House in a tuxedo is one unique image of its kind). On several occasions, they've even had dinners together, with Wilson and his wife Bonnie, at one or the other's place.

And it doesn't matter if, in these moments, Cuddy is the only single woman awkwardly sitting at the table. She doesn't care. She's become friend with Stacy. They can talk about House together, and joke about him being a jerk. And House rolls his eyes, but laughs with them. Cuddy realizes he's no different in a more private setting than he is at work, somehow. She realizes he's no different than she remembers him being, over a decade ago, when he used to piss his professors off at UMich but truly fascinated her with his charms, his wit and his scandalous, non-conformist manners.

She still dates men, though, but never seriously. Most of them are just sexual partners she meets in a professional context. She doesn't have time for a serious relationship, anyway. That's what she tells herself when she goes to sleep alone at night, lying in her king-size bed, with a little silver flask that she's kept all these years carefully hidden in her nightstand's drawer.

There is no doubt House is the riskiest choice Cuddy has ever made in her professional life. But, in more than one way, he's also undeniably the riskiest choice she's ever made on a personal level…

# # # # #

He's got tenure. Cuddy has miraculously managed to convince the Board to offer him his own Department (something about that woman's determination never ceases to amaze him). He's talked James Wilson into quitting his job at Pennsylvania Hospital to join him at PPTH. Stacy is happy. And Happy Stacy sure does make _him_ happy.

When, some days, he's crazy enough to take a moment to assess his life, House is more than a little stunned by what he sees: He has a supportive boss; his best friend with him; a sexy, wonderful woman who happens to be in love with him; an exciting job.

Everything is… perfect.

Until, of course, it isn't.

Because nothing is ever perfect.

One Sunday in July, he pulls a muscle in his leg while playing golf with Stacy. It's just something minor, and stupid. At least, that's what he first tells himself when he comes home with a pulsating pain in his thigh. That will teach him not to try and impress his woman with his swing. He takes one pain killer and it all goes away until, the next day, the pain suddenly resurfaces, stronger than before, this time without him doing any particular effort. Working in a hospital gives him easy access to the pharmacy. Being a doctor gives him an easy excuse to write a prescription for pain killers to an imaginary patient.

It's risky, but he needs to take care of his pain, and basic antalgics don't seem to do the trick anymore. Two Vicodin a day will. When it becomes no longer enough to take the edge off, his instincts start telling him it might be more serious than what he thought it initially was.

But the first doctor he consults doesn't detect anything abnormal. Neither does the second one. After four days, three Vicodin a day aren't enough to help him deal with his pain, so he goes to a day clinic in Princeton General (doing it in PPTH seems a little stupid, even for him) and he tricks the physician there into giving him Demerol. The morphine finally relieves him, but only temporarily. There's nothing he can do but take more Vicodin in the hope that the pain caused by his strained muscle, or whatever it is, will quickly disappears.

Except, it doesn't.

After a week, like a pathetically desperate drug-seeking addict, he goes back to Princeton General for another dose of Demerol. But the attendant in charge that day isn't as keen to give him his fix as the first one was. Instead, he decides to test his urine by inserting a catheter in his urethra, without anesthesia of course, the little bastard probably thinking he's proving a point to what he thinks is just another faking drug addict.

There's blood in his urine, but the attendant still sends him back home for a minor trauma in his leg, simply advising him to take it easy for a few days.

Everyone has been missing the point from the beginning. What's worth, even House himself has. When his blood tests come back and reveal elevated creatinine kinase, it's already too late. An MRI of his leg shows what he should have suspected sooner: muscle death in his thigh. The pain he's felt while playing golf is due to an infarction. But they've waited too long.

No. Nothing in life is ever perfect…

# # # # #

**[2000]**

Cuddy has done everything. Everything she thought _he_ would have wanted her to do.

Still, deep down, she knows amputation was the safest choice. Except House is a stubborn idiot who always thinks he's better than everyone else, and of course, he refused. The alternative that Cuddy has suggested has, not only saved his leg, it's also saved his life.

That's about all it's done, though.

Removing a chunk of muscle in his thigh has left House with permanent, excruciating pain. If he was a difficult, albeit brilliant, jerk until then, it's needless to say that handling chronic pain on a daily basis has turned him into a bitter, impossible to manage pain in the ass.

But Cuddy doesn't feel guilty for the choice she's made. Ultimately, it's one that _he_'s made for himself.

What she feels guilty about, however, is the unavoidable consequences that follow.

For as long as she can, Stacy tries her best to be supportive, caring and forgiving of House's spite, but even her devoted love isn't enough to bring him comfort. House is resentful. And he blames her, while, just like Cuddy, she's done nothing but respect his wish. The fact that he's now popping Vicodin like candies doesn't make things better, either. He's irascible, vindictive, and angry most of the time. That is, when he's not just plain high, and unable to focus.

It takes barely six months after House's infarction until the poison destroys his relationship with Stacy. House is too proud to deal with his handicap, and, no matter how understanding Stacy is, he convinces himself she only stays with him out of pity. And pity is the one thing that he can't stand.

In February, after he's done everything he could to force her to leave him, bitterly arguing that she'd do herself a favor because she deserves more than a miserable cripple in her life she gives up and breaks up with him. Deliberately pushing Stacy away was a stupid, irrational burst of pride but the truth is, when she finally leaves him, it completely destroys him.

For weeks, House is just the shadow of himself, getting drunk, dangerously mixing pills with scotch, passing out in bars half of the time, when he's not getting into fights, often ending with bruises or black eyes he's completely unable to explain.

Wilson, thankfully, is here to limit the damages. He spends nearly all of his free time with House, almost moving in with him at some point, just to make sure he's not going to do anything stupid when he's left alone in his apartment. The oncologist's selfless devotion is admirable, except to his wife, Bonnie, who fails to see it that way and quickly starts blaming Wilson for caring more about his loser friend than he cares about her. Wilson tries to put the broken pieces together by returning home, but it's too late: After two months, Bonnie files for divorce and Cuddy is forced to handle House without Wilson's help.

Yet, she cannot be with him all the time. Even if she tries her best to be a friend and help him get over his break-up, Cuddy has a hospital to run. And getting personally involved with House outside of a professional setting would quickly become suspicious to the Board.

When he had his infarction, the Department of Diagnostics she fought hard to create just for him had just been authorized by the Board. Running it in those circumstances is almost impossible for House, not to mention the fact that it would be a professional suicide, for both him and Cuddy. The Board members are as lenient with the whole situation as reason allows them to be, but they still lose patience all the same. During that period, House – even though he's no longer officially recovering from his infarction - is notoriously a wreck. He only shows up at work when the mood strikes him. Half of the time when he's there, he's too high to see patients. His days basically consist in him sitting at his desk and playing on his Game Boy, or sleeping in the doctor lounge, when he's not watching soaps on TV. Threats of shutting down the Department are regularly issued during Board meetings. Truth is, it's hard to really see the benefit of keeping it when the only doctor running it is not even doing the job he's supposed to be paid for.

Still, Cuddy remains stubbornly protective of House. More than once, she fights – and wins – not to get him fired, arguing that he's still one of their best assets. It's mostly obvious just to her, but she still manages to negotiate with the Board and buy him (and her) some time to prove to them that she's right. She's convinced that House needs something to occupy his brain; something that will helps him stop obsessing over his misery, and getting inexorably sucked into a spiral that ruins his unique talent.

In another one of her risky, gambling moves, she decides to hire two fellows to work with him. How she manages to get the Board to approve her crazy decision, she doesn't know, but there's not much she wouldn't do to protect House's job at this point, and force him to get back on track, to be the brilliant genius she knows. She can't stand to see his talent go to waste that way. And she's angry at him for not being able to get a grip and prove to her that she was right to trust him in the first place. In a way, she also probably feels guilty for his pain, and how it's turned him into someone so miserable that she doesn't recognize him anymore.

Yes, she's too proud to admit it, but another reason why she refuses to simply sit by and watch is because seeing him like that, half the man that he was, not even interested in medicine anymore, hurts her emotionally in deeper ways than what she can handle. She wants the guy she used to know in College back; the one who talked so passionately about his ambitions: Finding the truth, getting all the answers. She wants the guy she's hired back: The one who used to challenge her, and boost her confidence. She wants the jerk who laughed with her, the one who used to tease her, now, and a long time ago. She wants that smile, roguish smile on his face, and that look in his eyes, defying, infuriatingly smug, but so exciting…

So she goes to his place one evening, determined to shake him out his daze and get him back to work. It's lasted long enough now. Even she is not sure she will be able to hold the wolves back long enough to prevent him from losing his job. If he's not pulling himself back together quickly, she won't be able to help him. And just the thought that she could be unable to prevent the inevitable upcoming train wreck from happening is enough to drive her crazy.

He's predictably high when he opens the door. She still manages to hide the initial shock of seeing him scruffier and more miserable than she expected him to be. Images of him bursting out of the campus administrative building over a decade ago pop into her head and she feels a sudden urge to hug him, just like she wanted to do back then. But she doesn't. Instead, without waiting for his permission, she starts cleaning up the mess in his living room, as he stands, wobbling on his feet, and watches her, commenting with a slurry voice about her doing the dirty work, like the useless administrator that she is.

She bravely stomachs his cynical barbs without saying a word, and when she's done, she orders him to go take a shower. He briefly jokes that he'll only do it if she comes with him, and she rolls her eyes, a little taken aback, but not really upset by the inappropriateness of his remark.

It's the first time House is making that kind of blatantly sexual innuendo to her since she's hired him, and she should feel outraged, or embarrassed, but she's not. He's drunk, and visibly depressed, and even if he's sometimes ogled her in _that_ way in the past, it's never been more than just part of their unspoken game, something she tells herself, that is just an unconscious remnant of the past. Nothing more.

When he comes back from his shower, he looks less dirty, but not really on top form, either. She notices he's kept his stubble and she tries not to think too much about how it makes him look oddly sexier because it isn't the point of her visit at all.

She tells him why she's here, and while doing so, she makes an obvious effort to stay as professional as the situation requires her to be: The Board is after him, and she's doing her fucking best not to get his ass fired, but he has to get a grip and go back to work. If he doesn't, she can't guarantee he'll keep his position at PPTH, even despite him having tenure.

He shrugs, like it didn't matter to him, and it infuriates her. She bites her bottom lip, to prevent her from puffing in exasperation and she plants her gaze in his, staring intensely into his eyes, as if she wanted to force him to obey her with the power of her mind only. She doesn't know what to say, anyway. The more she looks at him, the more she realizes how much of a lost cause he is. But, at the same time, she just can't wrap her head around the reasons why she is so desperately unable to let him go.

As she stands in front of him, they hold each other's gaze in silence and she wishes she had enough strength to do just that: Let him go. But she can't. There is something in her gaze that conveys both her helplessness and the anger she feels in that instant, and after what seems like an eternity, House averts his eyes, hanging his head in shame.

"I'm a loser," he mumbles almost inaudibly.

She wants to scream 'no' but all she manages to do is shake her head, feeling powerless. She takes a few steps in his direction and stands in his personal space, conspicuously close, until it forces him to lift up his head and look her in the eyes again.

"House, you're not a loser," she says with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Their night together, the regrets she'd felt afterwards, him being back in her life, his infarction, his breakup with Stacy, all of those things wasted for nothing, just like that. How did all of this happen? And for what?

They look at each other for a long while and then, without a warning, his lips are suddenly on her lips, kissing her. It feels instantly desperate, messy, almost brutal, even. She's taken aback by the bruising force of his claim, and she freezes inside his arms, paralyzed at first. But his hands are roaming her back, and his tongue is pressing against her mouth demanding entry. He tastes like scotch, and it feels so familiar… She relaxes in his embrace, and gives in to his kiss for a minute. Completely stupidly, she gives in.

What the hell is she doing?

There is no worse moment to be doing what she's doing than this one. He's high, and in pain, miserable, barely recovering from a breakup. He doesn't really want that. It makes no sense at all. He doesn't even really want _her_…

When his hand starts yanking on the hem of her shirt to find its way underneath, Cuddy grips his shoulders and pushes him away from her with might. She's panting, and her lips probably glisten with his saliva. She wants to lick them, but she doesn't. Instead, she just stands there, breathless and unable to speak, while he stares at her with an undecipherable gaze.

If he makes an uncalled-for comment, any comment at all, about what just happened, she will fire him, she tells herself. But House says nothing. After a while, she can even see panic in his eyes, as if he only now realized what he's done. He must fear she's going to fire him, she thinks, because that's surely what any woman in her position would do after an "incident" like that. Especially when she's made it perfectly clear that the reasons why she came to see him were strictly professional.

But Cuddy is more than just "a woman in her position" and when it comes to House, she knows that she will never be able to see him in that way only. Like a boss sees her employee. Like a Dean should consider his best asset. It's a curse but she knows she will always see him differently; because he's House and if she's here today, not just standing in his apartment, but here, at that moment in her life, doing what she does, part of her can't deny that she owes it to him somehow.

Just as his gaze, panicked and blurred with tears, tells her that he's painfully aware that his future is lying in her hands in that instant.

"I've hired two fellows to work under your supervision in _your_ Department," she says, trying her best to sound unmoved and intransigent. "They're expected to start on Monday—"

"Cuddy… I… I'm," he stutters self-consciously.

"Tomorrow, you're going back to work," she continues before he can finish his sentence. "_Sober_, and on a dose of painkillers reasonable enough to allow you to fully function."

For a brief, painful moment, his stare on her becomes more intense, filled with too many unsaid words, and she almost loses the strength to carry on. She takes a long, wobbling breath, and juts her chin up to sustain his gaze.

"Nothing happened. Not tonight, not _ever_," she adds, swallowing a lump in her throat. "The Board agreed not to fire you because I told them you were the best doctor we have. And that is the _only_ reason they need to hear."

House silently nods, because words are superfluous in that instant to express the shame he feels, and Cuddy is grateful not to have to explain to him why she indeed _needs_, now more than ever, to put their past behind her if they want to start over on solid grounds, if anything to be able to work together, for lack of being able to _be_ together.

She's felt the force of his desire that night, and it brought back memories of what it is like to be held, kissed, and loved by House, powerful memories that undeniably shook her to the core. But that desire, troubling as it was, was too desperate and demanding, and it frightened her. At that moment in her life, she's not sure she's strong enough to handle the emotional turmoil that is House without consuming herself entirely, and she doesn't have the luxury to do it, no matter how dangerously intoxicating it would surely feel.

She leaves him without uttering another word, only sharing the weight of all the things they don't have the courage to confess to each other with one last longing look before exiting his apartment.

The next day, House shows up at PPTH, almost on time, sober and clean – even though his shirt isn't ironed, and he still hasn't shaved his five o'clock shadow (a look that he keeps from then on). That day, as she watches him limp across the lobby, clenching his jaw to hide his pain, but holding his head high challengingly every time someone walks past him, she knows she's done the right thing.

The Department of Diagnostics that she fought so hard to keep just for him can finally become more than just an empty office with the name of a ghost on its door…

(...)


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to freeasabird14, Abby, Drdiagnostic, Sandy, OldSFfan, Guest, bere, JLCH, bladesmum, oc7ober, palmi, mystryGAB and Amandak82 for sharing kind words and comments on the last chapter._

_It means a lot to me that you took the time to write them so I would know how you feel about this story. _

_Now on to the third part; the last one before the story catches up with the show's timeline… I hope you'll enjoy reading it._

* * *

><p><strong>** THE FIRST TIME - EPILOGUE **<strong>  
><strong>- part 3 - <strong>

**[2001-2004]**

They never talk about what happened in his apartment, but they both know that, somehow, they saved each other that night.

Everything returns to normal. That is, as normal as things can be with a man like House. He holds himself together, shows up at work every day looking decent. He's quit getting drunk on a daily basis (without quitting scotch). Vicodin helps him deal with his pain. His dosage is reasonably controlled, even if some days he pops one or two extra pills just to numb himself and stop thinking about all the things he's lost, and all the opportunities he'll miss.

The fact is, as empty as his life feels sometimes, House is not alone. Wilson is there for him. After his divorce, he's become more available to hang out with his friend, without feeling guilty about it. The two of them have developed a sort of routine in their friendship: Poker nights, bowling, Monster Truck races, TV shows marathons... Their week is planned, organized, and perfectly scheduled. It gives House less time to mull over the past, and ideally provides Wilson with more reasons to feel helpful, hence more reasons to feel less depressed about his failed marriage. It's a win-win.

At first, Wilson tries, not so subtly, to prompt House to talk about the motive of his 'recovery,' but House never mentions the real circumstances of his return. To everyone, including his best friend, his past history with Lisa Cuddy, except for the fact that they crossed path in Michigan a long time ago, remains secret. As far as he's concerned, Cuddy is just one talented, sassy Dean who's managed to kick his ass back to work, and nothing else. And yet, for a jerk like him, with so few moral codes and a craving need to force everyone to abide by his rules, using their past as a ticking blackmailing bomb would be the natural thing to do.

Except that, when it comes to Cuddy, House's usual codes change entirely. It doesn't mean that he won't press her buttons, challenge her authority, or even put her in a difficult position if it can help him get what he wants, but he knows what he owes her. And, even though he's too stubbornly proud to thank her, he never forgets it.

Despite the unwavering self-confidence that she works hard to display every day to keep her credibility at work, House is also the only one who really knows the woman behind the mask: Fragile, full of doubts and driven by crazy, utopian ideals. And a part of him, chivalrous and old-fashioned, can't help but feel protective of that woman. Because of what they shared in the past, of course, but because of what she did for him years later, too. She understands him. And she _knows_, better than anyone, what an asshole he can be, but she trusts him nonetheless. Because, somehow, she, too, is the only one who really knows the man behind the mask. And she's not afraid of whom that man is.

She doesn't run away. She never lets him down. She always stands up for him.

House surely comes off as an ungrateful ass, but the truth (that he's careful to conceal from a large majority of people) is actually different. What ties him to Cuddy is undefinable, and it's certainly nobody's business, but when he's alone, thinking about it, it becomes impossible to ignore it: The mutual respect and admiration, the need to impress each other, the trust… If it weren't for her, he wouldn't be here, doing what he loves. He wouldn't have a job. If it weren't for her, he probably wouldn't even be alive.

And that special bond, which nobody – not even him – fully understands is undeniably what keeps him going all these years, even more than Wilson does in a way, while, to a neutral observant, the oncologist mostly is the only devoted friend who knows how to keep the crazy diagnostician in line.

Despite the appearances, however, what fuels House's fire happens mostly behind closed doors: When he storms into her office, unannounced, and challenges her with another one of his crazy hunches. Training his fellows prevents him from getting bored. Hanging out with Wilson distracts his mind from its darker thoughts. But arguing with Cuddy… Arguing with Cuddy about medical puzzles, seeing that look on her face – a mix of admiration and dismay - when he asks for her approval on some risky, unconventional procedures, waiting for her to cave, being surprised and admiring when she doesn't, forcing her to find solid arguments that _he_ will want to listen is, more than anything else, what really makes him feel alive.

# # # # #

After three years, the Department of Diagnostics – first one in the United States which medical purpose only focuses on diagnosing and treating lost causes – proves itself to be one of Cuddy's best achievements as a Dean. Despite its initial reticence to rely on House's unstable personality, the Board is forced to realize that PPTH's reputation of excellence has considerably increased across the country, due, for the most part, to the unmanageable and curmudgeon genius who makes their lives a living hell.

Thousands of dollars in litigation are necessary every year to fix the consequences of House's misconducts. And yet, thankfully, Cuddy now has some substantial leverage to negotiate with the members of the Board whenever they become too anxious about their investments or start questioning the upsides of having someone like Gregory House among their staff: Without him, there is no Department of Diagnostics. Without the Department, PPTH loses a third of its capital funded by rich donors. It's easy to do the math: as reluctant as they are to approve of his behavior most of the time, the Board cannot fire House. He's too much of a precious asset for them.

An unquestionable fact that Cuddy keeps using in meetings to defend him, and the argument she keeps repeating to herself to convince her that there's, indeed, no other reason than that purely professional one to justify spending so much of her time and energy trying to protect his job.

But it doesn't make it less of a lie.

Surely, House is a valuable asset for PPTH – one of their best, even – but the reasons why she still fights like a lioness for him go beyond the simple financial benefit that he represents for the hospital.

He's exhausting, unpredictable, and demanding. His ideas usually rank from dangerously irrational to downright crazy. His methods are completely unconventional: He doesn't see patients, and when he does, he insults them, or accuses them of lying. He breaks into their homes, blackmails the family, and confronts them with their dirty little secrets. She should have fired him more than a hundred times already. She should be outraged by his total lack of bedside manners, indignant about his inappropriate bluntness, shocked by his lies…

But the truth is she's fascinated.

To her, House is – and will always be – "the man with the answers," a rebellious mind who sets his own rules, a free spirit who doesn't care about how reckless his decisions can be, as long as they can prove his point.

Somehow, he reminds her of who she was, a long time ago: a strong-headed girl, crazy enough to get married on a whim just to prove that she couldn't be controlled; someone who worked hard to excel in her field so that she wouldn't have to owe her success to anyone but her; someone who believed that medicine is about making a difference…

After several years, the weight of her administrative duties has tamed that recklessness inside her a little, but having House by her side prevents her from forgetting why she did all those sacrifices in the first place. He's the reason why she wants to keep fighting, her inspiration to continue pushing the limits, and a reminder that giving up isn't an option because, with him, _she_ makes a difference, and the way _he_ challenges her, like no one else does, is the fuel that keeps her going and makes it all worth it at the end of the day.

Of course – but she's much more reluctant to admit _that_ – there is also that undefined attraction between them, forbidden and dizzying, which she can't really deny. With time, as House has recovered from his break up and partially accepted to live with his handicap, he's become less self-conscious; at least he's learned how to hide his self-loathing behind a unique sense of humor, made of provocation and cynicism.

Their arguments stop being strictly about medicine. Insidiously, House begins turning their power games into sexual banters, making innuendos that are impossible to ignore about her cleavages, her curves, or her ass. It would be offensive if, in a somewhat slippery way, he didn't make it sound like he was deliberately reminding her of the past, and that night long ago, when he'd possessed her body, held those curves in his hands, and made her moan in rapture.

Cuddy is perfectly aware that, by playing that game, they're both walking a thin, very dangerous line but she plays along all the same. She just can't help it. Even back then, in Michigan, their brief but intense relationship had always been about pressing each other's buttons, and teasing each other in _that_ way, to get the upper hand, even during sex.

It's surely highly inappropriate, but only she knows the real reasons why she likes that side of him better; because she'd rather he be a smug, insufferable bastard than miserable and depressed. The shame she once saw in his eyes (the night she'd gone to his apartment to convince him to return to work) after he kissed her in a moment of despair is a memory she never wants to relive again.

The House she remembers is a self-confident, provoking jerk. The House she knows is so full of himself he's not afraid to embarrass someone in public. But she isn't just 'someone.' She's not afraid of his games. And she's strong enough not be embarrassed by his innuendos. In truth, she finds them exciting; and flattering, somehow. She feels an indescribable satisfaction in knowing that she doesn't leave him indifferent. No matter how hard he tries to make it look frivolous, she is persuaded that he genuinely finds her attractive; just like she finds him genuinely intoxicating, too. They can't, and won't, ever admit it to each other's face, but they both know that if the game is worth playing, it's only because it's not really one.

Of course, House's sudden growing obsession with Cuddy isn't seemingly trivial, either.

In 2003, Wilson gets married for the third time. Consequently – and logically – the newly-wed oncologist spends more time with his wife, Julie, than with House, disrupting their otherwise perfectly organized routine. House being childishly possessive and jealous, becomes predictably unbearably upset about the whole situation. Like two divorced parents forced to handle the temper tantrums of their kid, Cuddy tries to convince Wilson to do his part of the job by spending at least one evening a week with him doing whatever boyish thing they used to do together, but when Wilson refuses, even she doesn't have it in her to insist.

So, again, she's left on her own to deal with House. Not really knowing what to do, one evening she suggests they have a drink together after work, hoping that spending time with her, outside the hospital, will distract him from Wilson's absence a little. After all, they're friends, too. And the thing is, they do have a good time. There is a sort of ease and naturalness that is immediately established between them. And, if she's being honest, that laid-back moment she spends with him helps her forget about her own loneliness, too.

Another day, she invites him for dinner, and another day, in turn, he invites her too. And so, during a few months, the two of them regularly see each other outside of work. Cuddy listens to House grumble about the inefficiency of the Board members, talk about his cases, playfully mock his fellows. She tells him funny anecdotes about her meetings with some weird donors, shares her projects about the hospital. She mentions the movies she saw; he mentions the names of the musicians he likes. They talk about Wilson, reminisce the early years of their careers before PPTH. He asks about her family, and she tells him about her sister, who married the perfect guy, and had the perfect kids, and made her mommy perfectly proud. House hears the resentment in her voice but he refrains from making any spiteful comment. They laugh together. They get upset together. They're honest with each other.

It feels nice, being with him, without the usual pressure of work getting in the way of their interactions. She hasn't forgotten how stimulating and fun it is to spend time with House, but it's been a long time since she's allowed herself to be like that with him: just herself, without pretense.

She's grateful that he doesn't take advantage of the situation to turn those moments into something they're not – or _can't be_ – because, as she realizes, what she really needs at that moment in her life is a friend who will listen to her rambling about her failures and doubts without judging; someone who knows her weaknesses but will not use them against her for a change; someone who understands her on a deeper level than what the image of Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine can project. And ironically, but not so surprisingly, House is one of the only few people in her life that can be all of that.

Still, one evening, they go to a bar to have a drink, and she asks him to order for her, while she's going to the ladies' room. When she comes back, there're two glasses of Bourbon on their table. House holds his in the air and stares intensely at her, as she sits down across from him. There is something in his gaze that suddenly feels both familiar and different, and it troubles her.

"C'mon," he says, waiting for her to pick her glass. "Let's drink!"

"I don't drink Bourbon," she deadpans.

House carefully lays his glass back on the table and slightly leans forward planting his big blue eyes in hers with the same troubling intensity she saw before but didn't quite know how to read.

"Yeah, _you do_," he says, his voice low.

The tone of his voice, the look in in eyes as he says it makes it impossible for her to ignore his obvious reference to a detail that tied them to their one-night stand. Her heartbeats speed up in her chest and she gulps, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. Everything shifts between them in that second, and panic pervades her because it suddenly feels as if he were asking her to make a choice. It feels like, _maybe_, what they have together could turn into something completely different.

She wasn't prepared for that at all and she becomes painfully aware that she's incapable of trusting herself to know the answer to his silent question. She's not even sure he's really asking one. She wonders what part of it is just her desire to hear it, and what part is House really saying, in veiled terms, that he wants more. Why would he say that? Why would he want her?

It suddenly feels like everything gets mixed up together: What she needs, what she really wants, what she can't have, what she doesn't deserve… She gets dizzy.

"No. I don't drink Bourbon anymore," she replies, her voice wobbling imperceptibly.

House instantly straightens up and flashes a mocking smile at her, as if it was all just a joke, but she doesn't fail to spot the brief look of hurt that just passed in his eyes. Or maybe she just imagined it was there… She bites her bottom lip, feeling stupid but it's too late: The moment flies by before she can rationalize it, or regret her decision.

Maybe there never was a question. Maybe it was just another game, indeed, but one thing is certain, though: She _knows_ that House sees more in her than just a boss. It doesn't matter if they pretend it isn't there. _She_ sees more than a brilliant doctor in him, too, and she never acts on it, either. Her responsibilities, her position as a Dean in PTTH, their complicated history, his impossibly screwed-up character, she's weighed all of that more than once in the past, but she's always come to the same conclusion: They can't be together because it'd be a huge mistake.

Their timing always sucks, anyway.

When he came back into her life, he was with Stacy. When Stacy left, she had to position herself strictly as his boss so that it wouldn't jeopardize his job. Now that he's gotten over it, what she mostly needs is a friend, and it doesn't matter that she still dreams about him sometimes, or even masturbate to the thought of him when she feels lonely. Truth is, she's still afraid to take that risk. And knowing that _he_ could probably think about it, too, terrifies her.

So she does what she does best: She buries herself in work, and puts some distance between them. Conveniently for her, the honeymoon phase in Wilson's marriage is over. He's ready to go back to his routine with House; maybe not as often as he used to, but at least he can spend time with him again. Cuddy breathes a sigh of relief: She can finally regain control over the situation, and stop feeling confused. House and her stop seeing each other after work. And of course, they never mention what happened in that bar ever again.

But they've gotten closer, somehow. She confided in him, and to a certain extent – for a secret man like House – he confided in her. They know each other better now. And flirting seems like an acceptable alternative to the opportunity they're both aware they've lost. The sexual innuendos begin.

And everything goes back to 'normal'…

# # # # #

In 2004, after having completed their fellowship, the first two doctors that Cuddy hired to work with House leaves PPTH, and House hires a new team. She gets the Board to authorize three fellows, instead of two, because the reputation of House's Department has now crossed the borders, being strong enough to lure young, promising talents from all across the country, and even beyond. Among the applicants' files, Cuddy deliberately slides the one of a young female doctor, Alison Cameron, beautiful enough, she thinks, to distract House. Predictably, he hires her, and Eric Foreman, an ambitious neurologist, as well as Robert Chase, an Australian, young cardiologist, specialized in intensive care and trained in neurosurgery.

She needs him to focus on his cases again. PPTH goes through some financial problems and the last thing she needs as the Dean is to lose precious funding for the hospital because Gregory House, the brilliant diagnostician, has stopped doing the job that made them famous.

And yet, when she gets exactly what would definitely put the hospital's problems behind them, she chooses him, again, over $100,000,000.

Admittedly though, giving up on Edward Vogler's precious money is the expensive, but indispensable prize to pay to get rid of an absolutely poisonous bastard. Wilson and Chase almost lose their jobs in the process. Cuddy herself, under Vogler's pressure, comes close to being fired by the Board.

Still, her only priority, once more, is to save _him_.

They can't be together, and they're not (even though, for the first time since she's hired House, she has to face uncalled-for insinuations about her sleeping with him from Vogler) but, she realizes, she needs him more than anything in her life.

She can maybe fool everyone and claim loud and clear that there is, indeed, nothing between House and her (which is true, anyway) but she can't fool herself that this 'nothing' they share doesn't, in fact, mean something.

When Vogler is voted out of the Board, PPTH loses $100,000,000, but House keeps his job. Wilson and Chase keep theirs, too, and she keeps her position as Dean. Still, the only thing that really matters to her is that she didn't lose _him_.

To the Board members, and every doctor in PPTH, Cuddy's decision is heroic because she made it look like she fought to defend the hospital's freedom, and preserve several valuable doctor's jobs, but _she_ knows that it's not the case.

What she did is reckless and stupid, and it painfully exposes her weakness to her: She only did it for him. The truth is, she didn't care about the money. She didn't even care about losing Wilson. All she cared about was him. And what he would become without a job. What her life would become if he wasn't in it anymore.

She hates herself for being weak in that way because of him, and she feels guilty not to have the strength not to care, but it's her curse and she has to live with it: Gregory House, for better or for worse, is the one man she's ready to sacrifice everything for.

The bastard, of course, acts like this is all part of a gambling game, like he didn't know exactly why she did it. He doesn't even thank her. But she knows that he knows. And somehow, she suspects he revels in the fact that he can still be her weakness, despite them both stubbornly trying to convince the other that there's nothing between them outside of their professional relationship.

After they stopped seeing each other outside of the hospital, House has started to see hookers. Cuddy suspects he was already paying for sex before that, probably since his breakup with Stacy, but this time, he makes sure that she knows about it, and he deliberately taunts her with unsubtle comments about it whenever he can.

She's hurt of course (even if, rationally, she's perfectly aware that there's no legitimate reason why she should be) but she doesn't show it. Instead, she distracts herself with brief relationships and uncomplicated sex with several men that she meets in a professional context: donors, insurance reps, lawyers… When Cameron develops a serious crush on House, she even encourages him to date her. Maybe because she knows him well enough to be sure it's going to be a disaster, but conspicuous emotional detachment is part of their new unsaid rule. And when it comes to playing the indifference card, that's a game they're both very good at.

And then, Stacy comes back…

(...)

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**_

_As it turns out, this epilogue is probably going to have five parts… I don't know. Oddly, it has felt easier so far to fill in the blanks and 'invent' their back up story than it is to follow the show's timeline and select specific moments in the storyline to highlight the feelings that I want to focus on._

_So bear with me. :)_

_Have a nice day ~ maya_


	4. Chapter 4

**** THE FIRST TIME - EPILOGUE **  
><strong>**- part 4 -  
><strong>

**[2005-2007]**

Evidently, seeing Stacy is a shock for House. And having her back in his life, after Cuddy hires her to be PPTH's litigator, is complicated.

Old feelings naturally resurface. It becomes dangerously easy to remember how good it felt to have her in his life, to be loved by a beautiful, assertive woman, to be happy; so dangerously easy to remember how everything was so much simpler when he was not a bitter cripple in constant pain.

For a time, House even entertains the idea that he can win Stacy back, and because he knows exactly what side of him seduces her, what she wants to hear, or how he needs to make her feel, he succeeds.

But it's just a delusion. A lie he tells himself to hold on to the crazy hope that everything can still be like it used to be. What he really chases, though, is a past that no longer exists. Besides, Stacy is married, and deep down, House knows that some of the feelings she has for him, five years after their break up, are still just triggered by a lingering sense of guilt. At least, that's what he tells himself when, after they have sex together, she tries to convince herself that she's ready to leave her husband to get back with him.

She doesn't really want that, and House knows it. What she wants is absolution, maybe, or the reassuring proof that he can still love her in spite of the pain they've caused each other.

In truth, seeing Stacy and, for a crazy romantic moment, nurturing the illusion that things, and people, could change is a wakeup call, somehow; because people don't change. And as much as he'd want to believe it would work, it won't. They were only great together for as long as House's leg wasn't broken. Of course, Stacy never blamed him for his handicap, or loved him less because of it, but when the going got tough, she made him feel like he wasn't able to give her what she wanted anymore.

Time goes by, and Stacy leaves, and House realizes what he's been reluctant to admit all those years: Cuddy, _she_ never leaves. She's always there for him. She doesn't mind if he's screwed-up. Actually, she's pretty screwed-up herself.

She believed in him when no one else did. She created a Department of Diagnostics from scratch and she gave it to him. She let him run it his way. She gave up on $100,000,000 to save him.

There isn't a single thing she wouldn't do for him. And he, like a pathetic ass that he is, he plays games with her, he makes her life miserable, he provokes her, and he hides behind his legendary cynicism to avoid facing the truth: She is the only woman who doesn't abandon him, despite his flaws, and his insufferable manners.

Why would he deserve it? Deserve _her_?

# # # # #

She's 38, and her biological clock is ticking.

Her sister Julia and her husband David had their third child, and when Cuddy visits them during week-ends sometimes, she sits in a corner and observes from afar what seems like an inaccessible dream to her: A family.

And it tugs at her heartstrings because, with time, she's become painfully aware that her chances to live that same dream are slowly fading away. This, the perfect picture, with the husband, the dog, and the children running around laughing is not for her. She's alone. She's completely devoted to her work. She doesn't have a man in her life. She's not even in a serious relationship.

But, maybe, she can still have part of it. Maybe everything is not lost for her. It's not too late to have a child. She doesn't have a father to conceive it, but she considers IVF. She's a doctor, and she has access to all the necessary equipment that the long procedure requires. She doesn't talk about her project to anyone, not even to her mother whom, she fears, would probably think she's lost her mind because how can a single woman in her situation, who works 12 hours a day, reasonably raise a child? It's her life, though; her choice to make.

She doesn't talk to anyone about it, and yet, when the moment comes to take the leap, she turns to _him_. Because she can't go through the process alone; she needs someone she can trust to be supportive, helpful, and bluntly honest with her to help her make the right decisions. And, again, she can't think of anyone else but him to be that someone.

Everyone would tell her she's crazy. House, trust-worthy? What a joke! But they don't know him like she does. They only see what's on the surface: A self-absorbed, insensitive boor who behaves like a whimsical kid and only cares about himself.

Cuddy knows it isn't true, though. She saw him around Stacy: Shy, attentive, and romantic even. She heard about his date with Cameron (Wilson couldn't keep his mouth shut) and the clumsy, but charming, old-fashioned detail about the corsage. She's spent enough time with him talking and laughing carelessly to know that he's not just a grumpy, spiteful jerk, but that he can be fun, too. She's shared enough stories about her personal life with him – that she hasn't shared with anyone else – to know that he can respect her privacy, and listen to her without judging. And she _knows_ he can be tender…

Of course, he can also be just House, the guy who deflects with sexual innuendos, like the ones he makes when he injects her with her daily dose of hormones, while she stands in front of him, bent over her desk in her office. The irony of the situation doesn't get lost on her, and she would be lying if she said she didn't relish seeing him undeniably flustered by the vision. She, too, can play that game with him. His inappropriate comments don't bother her. Truth is, she likes being the center of his attention, and knowing that her body still affects him, somehow.

But an IVF isn't just about chemically boosting your estrogen level. Eventually, she has to choose a sperm donor. The choice is more difficult than she thought it would be when she realizes it oddly consists in picking a potential father for her child amongst a list of perfect strangers she will never get to know.

"_Find someone you like_," House tells her and his words still echo in her head long after he said them.

It hits her like evidence. It's him she needs. Him, she secretly wants to be _that _man for her. And it's not about genes or about finding a convenient solution to her problem, as she tries to convince herself to minimize the consequences of what a choice like that would imply. It's not even about having a baby, in the end. All those years, she's kept lying to herself to avoid facing the truth, but pretending doesn't work. As she's making the most important decision of her life, while trying to convince herself that she can make it alone, all the what ifs she's never dared to address suddenly come back to haunt her all at once.

She chickens out, though. She runs to him to tell him that he's the one she chooses, that she's found what she needed, but she's incapable to say it. As she stands in front of him, it sounds ridiculously unrealistic all of sudden.

And completely delusional.

If she's being reasonable, there is nothing there: When she put her trust in House and told him about her desire to have a child, he used it as another pretext to make sexual jokes about her ass. Why does she keep seeing him like someone he's not? Why can't she just look the truth in the eyes? He only treats her like a sexual object. His moves are never sincere and she can never truly tell what he thinks. Sometimes, she really believes she matters to him, and some other times, he makes sure that she can never get too close. Playful banter is the only thing they've got in common. And it doesn't mean anything. Even when they were in Michigan, it never meant anything at all, other than something sexually carefree… Isn't that the truth?

So she chickens out. And she leaves him, dumbfounded and intrigued, but without giving him another opportunity to mock her. She convinces herself that he's already had a good time doing it, as he's probably told Wilson about her pathetic project to conceive a baby alone.

When she realizes House hasn't betrayed her trust, but has kept her secret for himself instead, she's taken aback and confused for an instant. But he's sending too many mixed signals and she doesn't have the energy to find out what they mean, or decide once and for all how she should really feel about them…

# # # # #

Cuddy came to his office. And she stood in front of him, petrified, but House _knows _what she wanted to say, just as surely as if she'd said it out loud.

He knows all about her; every one of her secrets; He even knows her password… '_partypants_.' He can read her like no one else can: The way she tilts her head to the side when she hesitates; the way she half-arches her eyebrow when she's skeptic; the way she fiddles with her necklace when she's nervous, or bites her bottom lip when she's flustered. He knows every one of her smiles, shy, victorious, or challenging. He can anticipate her angers; guess what she's going to say before she even says it. He knows her cycle, her moods, and her cravings. He knows the men she dates, the one she brings home at nights. He knows when she had sex; or when she didn't and gets frustrated.

He knows what her body looks like underneath her clothes. He just has to close his eyes to remember its smell, and exactly how it reacted under his caresses. He often masturbates to the thought of her in his shower; or in his bed, when he feels too weary and miserable to call a hooker some days. It's not even a secret. She knows he does because he likes to tease her with blunt confessions like that, and observe her reactions: Is she going to laugh? Shrug? Get shocked? Is she going to be flattered?

Will she take him seriously?

But take him seriously about what? When House thinks about it, he, who's always been a genius for diagnosing the impossible, finds himself completely lost when it comes to defining what _this_ is. It's not love. No, it can't be. Love is too painful, and useless. He doesn't want to fall in love with someone again. He's burnt himself too deep already and the physical scars are enough for him to bear. But there's desire, undeniably, and sexual attraction. _That_, he can't deny: Cuddy's sexy body is impossible to ignore and he can _feel_ the obvious yearning inside of him when he looks at her. The lust, and the need to strip her off her clothes and do things to her, possess her, and make her moan. Yes, he knows he needs that. He needs _her_. But it's not love.

It just can't be.

Still, what if he were being straightforward for a change? What if he told her he needed her? Would she reject him? Surely he knows she feels something for him, too. He's not a fool. Their sexual banter isn't just a game. Not with the history the two of them share, it can't be. House plays with fire, and it's deliberate, but Cuddy never tells him to stop. He makes comments about her ass, ogles her cleavage, throws innuendos about her sexual preferences which meaning only he knows are true, and every time his eyes tell her that he is aware of what he's talking about, what he's peering at. His eyes tell her that his innuendos aren't solely founded on lecherous fantasies because he _knows_ what she really looks like, naked, and she cannot pretend she doesn't see that look in his eyes. She bites her bottom lip, or tilts her head to the side, and she smiles… but she never tells him to stop.

The thing is, she knows the _real_ him; something so rare that it's impossible for a man like him to deny how it makes him feel. She accepts him with his flaws. More importantly, she doesn't pity him. She never buys his crap, anyway. She doesn't see him as a handicapped man. Even when he stripped in front of her and brutally displayed the scar on his leg to somehow touch her and trick her into giving him morphine, she didn't even flinch. She gave him a placebo, instead! Who else would do that? Beyond his unwavering stubborness and emotional detachment, she always sees the man that he is, inside, the one he usually keeps for himself. She doesn't get fooled by his antics because _she_ knows that man. Pretending is useless with her, which is an endless source of wonderment for him.

And wouldn't it feel good, sometimes, if he didn't have to pretend anymore?

House doesn't have enough time to ponder that thought because one afternoon, as he's discussing a case with his team - while his subconscious wanders in places where he pictures himself mustering up the courage to go talk to her - some crazy guy bursts into his office, points a gun at him, and shoots.

He will probably never know what it's like to stand in front of her and actually _tell_ her that he needs her, but as he's wheeled to the E.R on a gurney, it's her name that forms on his lips before he loses consciousness; _her_ he trusts to take a risk and make a bold move to save him…

# # # # #

The Ketamine treatment he's requested from her works wonder.

For almost two months, House is on cloud nine, re-acquainting himself with a feeling he'd long lost and never thought he could ever feel again: Being whole.

No pain, no disability, no limp. _No pills_. It's like a miracle. The incredible sensation that comes with being able to walk without a cane, even run for miles without the slightest twitch in his thigh muscle - in other world, the fact that he can feel like a man again - all of that and more, he owes it to her. He's never said a proper 'thank you' when she fought for him after his breakup with Stacy, or saved him from Vogler's greed, but he thanks her then. With genuine gratefulness, he thanks her. Every morning, he jogs several miles before showing up at work, dripping with sweat, and there are no words to describe how that kind of exhaustion makes him feel: It tastes like freedom.

It tastes like… happiness.

For all the wrong reasons, House starts convincing himself that the way Cuddy looks at him is somehow related to him not being a cripple anymore. It's there, he tells himself, in the way she checks him out unabashedly, and that idea he plants in his head is a dangerous one to hold on to. It is as desperate as it is irrational, considering the fact that she never made him feel like he was any less of a man because of his leg before, but the illusion it creates in his mind is too tempting to dismiss: If she looks at him that way, it's because she sees him like a man again, just like she used to look at him almost twenty years ago. He remembers that look. And it makes him feel like he could now finally give her what a woman like her surely needs…

He obsesses over that idea, shifting it to his patient's condition (a man suffering from a locked-in syndrome allegedly caused by brain cancer). He jogs at night, thinking about the poor guy, and he ends up under her window, telling her that he can offer his patient a chance to have sex with his wife again. He doesn't say walk, or talk because he doesn't know how to tell her how he feels but the parallel is obvious to him: He's feeling strong, and happy. He's _unlocked_, too, in a way. There is a whole new world of possibilities that's opened to him. And he hopes she sees it, too...

But the good things, as always in his life, never last.

The ketamine treatment wears off, inexorably, and the pain, like a curse, slowly returns. House tries to avoid facing the truth at first, because then it'd mean he's condemned to be half that man again, one that Cuddy will never look at with those eyes, and that feels unbearably unfair to him.

But more than that, as he's desperately holding on to the illusion of an ideal life that's already drifting away from him, he notices the changes in her. He knows her too well not to be aware of them. And what they tell him hurts him more than he's willing to admit, to himself, let alone her: She's gone through with the IVF treatment. While he was recovering from his gun shots, she still tried to get pregnant. So it never was him she needed, after all. She never really looked at him like he could be _that_ man, even.

There's a girl, a teenage girl, who blatantly comes on to him and for a while, House entertains the idea that it could make Cuddy jealous. If it did, that would mean she cares about _him_, in spite of his bummed leg, or the pill addiction. But she doesn't, not really anyway. Instead, she's lying to him; about not being pregnant (she denies it, of course, but he knows her too well not to be sure that she is), about feeling sorry for his leg, and worse of all, as he finds out one day, about his patient. He had a crazy hunch, but he was right. And it saved the guy, gave him a chance to have a semblance of a life again, one that wasn't meaningless and empty. But she hid it from him, leaving him with the crushing feeling that he had failed to save a man, failed to give him his life back. Just when he was losing his once more…

It makes no difference to him that the idea wasn't originally hers, or that she just followed Wilson's advice to lie to him. Eventually, she did, all the same; because all she cared about was to make sure her best asset wouldn't screw up and did his job properly. That's all he's ever going to be to her, right? An asset. Just potential money to fund her hospital, but nothing more.

The slap back to reality is as cruel and brutal as the pain in his leg is. House feels useless, bitter and resentful. He pops more pills than he really needs, unconsciously seeking a numbness that has nothing to do with his physical condition. The fact that those two pain-free months he just had were, in fact, only a glimpse at a life he will never be able to live makes him even more painfully aware of all the things he can't, and won't, ever have now that he's just returned to being a pathetic, miserable, drug-addict cripple.

In the clinic one morning, he treats an annoying guy who's making irritating comments about his lack of empathy and that's just the perfect, and hypocritical excuse House needs to behave like a complete jerk in his presence. And the truth is, he doesn't care at all what it makes him look like. He's an ass, yes, bitter and sarcastic, because he can't stand people. He doesn't see any good reasons why he should be the one making the efforts anymore. And if the morons don't like it then they'll just have to deal with it; because he's done being nice.

Being nice has never done him any good anyway.

When Cuddy demands he apologize to the guy, his legendary jerkiness reaches a new height. Of course she wants to avoid litigation. Isn't _that_ the only thing she's ever cared about, anyway? In any other circumstances, House would have probably caved after a few heated arguments given that he really doesn't care about that guy in the end. He just cares about deliberately ruining the only thing that he _thinks_ matters to her: him being that precious asset her hospital can't afford to lose. The power game sets off a chain reaction that starts spiraling out of control, but he doesn't give a damn. He wants to punish her.

And, naturally, by being even more insufferably stubborn than before, the one he punishes the most is him.

Blackmail is the new game between them now: "Stop taking the pills, or stop practicing medicine." Of course, he chooses the latter. Cuddy will come crawling back to him, begging, before he'll even start puking. When she does, though, he slams the door in her face. No way he's going to let her inside her apartment this time. He's feeling miserable, angrier than ever before, but most of all weak, and unsure. And if he lets her in, he doesn't trust himself to have enough will power not to show her that weakness, and it's a price his pride cannot afford to pay at that moment.

Spitefulness, on the other hand, is something he knows how to deal with. Perfect emotional detachment, intentionally mean barbs, they all feel safer in a way, because then, in his twisted, wounded mind, her indifference makes sense, and the retaliation becomes justified, hence deserved.

Cuddy treats a little girl whose symptoms keep getting unpredictably worse every time an effort is made to get her better and House uses it as a pretext to hurt her with unusual cruelty, poking a sharp stick right where he knows it will make the worst emotional damages. She's probably lost the child she was carrying. He knows it because, even in his drug-induced haze, he's noticed every little detail about her body that betrays the miscarriage. But she didn't even talk to him about it. And he feels worthless, as a man, and as a friend. Didn't they used to be friends? Wasn't there a time when he could tell from the way she was with him that he was more than a valuable doctor in her staff?

It feels like all of this is gone.

Although, it's hard to say because he's stoned most of the time, to the pathetic point of feeling the first physical impact of the drugs on his body: He cannot even get it up for the hookers he calls to give him a false, delusional sense of comfort anymore. In truth, even though he deliberately chooses them with curly brown hair and a curvy ass, it's impossible for him to get hard when all he thinks about while they stand in front of him and half-heartedly rub themselves against him is her, and how it is _not_ her, with him, but just some faceless girl, which name he doesn't even remember. One night, he asks one of the hookers to dress in a white ruffle shirt and a red tee-shirt. Then, after he let her try, unsuccessfully, to take care of him, he asks her to stand and look him in the eyes while she will say the words. The ones he still vividly hears in his head some nights when he feels particularly alone: "House… Just fuck me."

The hooker complies and recites her line without flinching but when she does, House feels suddenly queasy, and moreover, horribly pathetic. Without an explanation, he slides a few fifty notes in her hands and throws her out of his apartment.

The next day, House voluntarily joins the rehab program in PPTH to detox – actually, _pretend _that he does – but he's realized he has to put a stop to that stupid, escalating game. Being her best doctor is better than ending up in jail like the loser that he is.

Except that Tritter, the guy he's pissed off to a point of no return, doesn't intend it that way. Jail seems inevitable, and ironically so, like a sort of well-deserved punishment for being an insensitive ass unable to show the slightest display of vulnerability to the people that matter to him the most. House sits in court, resigned, knowing that he had it coming and understanding that no amount of good will is enough to save him this time.

Until _she_ perjures herself and does just that: Save him. Again.

They lock eyes briefly right afterwards and then, for a fleeting, silent second, he can see in her gaze everything that he didn't dared to hope anymore: It's not just the doctor that she's protecting with her lie. It's the man. Despite his flaws, and his absolute screwed-upness; despite the horrible things that he's said to her, she is still there, for him.

And, paradoxically, it is when he should be persuaded that she's only doing it to keep the genius diagnostician that built her hospital's reputation the most that he now sees her action as proof that she didn't want to lose him, House, the man, her friend, the guy she once probably considered as father material even though she never had the courage to say it.

Their blatantly dysfunctional behavior would be risible if it wasn't, in fact, the only language they knew how to use to communicate with each other.

When Cuddy visits him in jail (as he's held there for contempt) House can't refrain himself from teasing her with another innuendo, not even subtle, one that should annoy her but she takes up the implied challenge and lays her card on the table: He owes her. Which means she owns him.

He knows that better than anyone. Yes, he owes her. The fact that, predictably, he doesn't even thank her for the risk she's taken doesn't mean he's not aware of it. The relief goes beyond him having avoided a jail sentence. It goes beyond her saving him from getting sucked into the dangerous Vicodin spiral once more. He's there, every day, certainly with a limp and chronic pain in his leg, but he still has her, to watch over him, challenge him with enough wit that he will find motivation to do his clinic duty, smile at his jokes, and taunt him with playful repartees.

Everything has changed but everything is still the same in a way.

There is something infinitely reassuring in that admission for House: Eventually, no matter how cruel he was to her, Cuddy didn't give up on him. It encourages him to be even bolder and somehow more inappropriate in the way he teases her. And to his surprise, she doesn't mind their banter flirting with that thin line, at all. She plays along. She lets him grab her ass, crash her dates, fumble through her personal stuff.

She's in his every thought. He daydreams about her. And when he does, every time, she looks him in the eyes and says "I'm always here" because, more than the blatantly sexual scenarios involving her that he can so easily fantasize about, _this_ is in fact the most unchanging truth his mind chooses to cling to. He obsesses over the men she's met, the ones she had sex with. No one pays attention to her like he does, and still no one is as good at pretending that he doesn't care as he is.

"_Stop staring at my ass when you think I'm not looking, showing up at restaurants where I happen to be on a date and fantasizing about me in the shower_," she tells him one day. "_That ship sailed long ago, House. Get over it_."

And he would believe her if she didn't smile at him in _that_ way when she said it, silently telling him what they're both incapable to express with words. That language, only the two of them know, is the reason why he smiles back. He smiles, yes, because the beauty of that twisted game is that he cannot tell if she's referring to their one-night stand in Michigan or implying that they had another chance after that.

And if they did, then it means that, surely, they can still have more…

(...)


End file.
